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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428056">Aftermath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mediumdinosaur/pseuds/Mediumdinosaur'>Mediumdinosaur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Buckle up, But he is bad at feelings, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I mean, OH WAIT I CAME UP WITH MORE PLOT, Restraint, Temptation, Tora has so many feelings, Vaguely held together by a strand of plot, drunk poppy, if you wanna, it's smut, like a lot of smut, smut and plot, still mostly about tora being bad at feelings and very in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 02:13:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>66,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mediumdinosaur/pseuds/Mediumdinosaur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tora's trying to be a gentleman, really. He's determined to be good. But does Poppy have to be so damn sexy all the time?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tora/Poppy Wilkes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>770</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Temptation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hiiiii I can't help myself; here's a little 3-chapter smut. Enjoy. I miss AO3.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poppy stumbled, falling forward on the stairs for the second time. Tora lunged to grab her around the waist, hauling her back to her high-heeled feet.</p><p>“Careful,” he said.</p><p>“<em>You</em> be careful,” drunk Poppy slurred.</p><p>“Christ,” Tora muttered. He bent down to scoop her up in his arms: much safer. With one arm under her legs and one arm around her shoulders, he hugged her to him. One step at the time, he kept climbing to her apartment.</p><p>“Did ya have to drink so much?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Poppy. She leaned her head against his shoulder. He flinched as she trailed a finger down his neck.</p><p>She tugged at the zipper of his jacket.</p><p>“Stop,” he said, suppressing a smile.</p><p>She leaned up in his arms and pressed her lips against his exposed skin.</p><p>He stopped climbing the stairs and glared down at her.</p><p>“Fuck, Bobby, what’s that for?” he grumbled. He’d <em>thought</em> driving her home would be simple, not a whole roadmap of temptations that he wasn’t allowed to act on.</p><p>“You’re a cutie,” she said, giggling. “Happy birthday.”</p><p>His face was burning. Other parts of him were, too. Carefully looking <em>up</em> the stairs, not at Poppy, he sighed and finished the climb to her door.</p><p>He had to admit, it was good to be at her building. Even if Poppy was a drunken, tempting, sexy mess, he hadn’t liked the way some of those guys at the club were looking at her. Hadn’t trusted any of them. Hadn’t even trusted that her drinks were safe.</p><p>She was safe now, he knew. She was with him.</p><p>“Keys?” Tora grumbled, still cradling Poppy in his arms. He wasn’t ready to put her down.</p><p>She held her purse up triumphantly.</p><p>He frowned. Reluctantly, Tora set her down gently on the ground, and began to paw through the handbag.</p><p>“Not here,” Tora said after a moment.</p><p>“Yes they are,” Poppy said, eyes closed. She leaned against the wall.</p><p>“No, they aren’t,” Tora said. “Trust me, they aren’t.”</p><p>“You aren’t looking hard enough,” Poppy said. She blinked up at him. Her coat covered her upper half, but her legs were utterly, tantalizingly bare.</p><p>“Am too,” Tora said.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. He sighed, remembering that she’d pulled out her keys in the car and waved them in his face. Apparently they hadn’t made it back into the purse.</p><p>“<em>Don’t fucking move</em>,” Tora said firmly, and pointed to the floor.</p><p>“Kay,” Poppy said.</p><p>He started down the stairs. She stood up and took a step after him.</p><p>“Sit, damnit,” Tora said. Poppy sat. He knelt and eased her damn sexy heels off her feet; at least now she’d be less likely to fall if she started to wander off.</p><p>Then he was jogging briskly down the five flights of stairs and to his car, cursing himself all the while for not checking for her keys earlier. He opened his car door and rummaged around the floor of the passenger seat. He found the keys and grabbed them triumphantly. Oh, she fucking owed him, alright. She’d be making up for <em>this </em>night for a while. He slammed the car door shut, locked it, and took off running back up the steps.</p><p>Thank god she hadn’t moved from where he’d left her. He started to unlock her door, then froze and looked down. She’d leaned forward on the ground to wrap her arms around one of his legs. She was peering up at him with those wide eyes. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>Despite all his best efforts, he couldn’t help but be turned on. He felt a throb in his crotch.</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“Yeah?” he muttered, looking down at her, mouth dry.</p><p>There was a long pause, their eyes locked on each other.</p><p>“You’re pretty,” she said at last.</p><p>“Jesus, Bobby,” he groaned. He turned back to the door, frowning, and finished unlocking it. He pushed it open and scooped her back up. “C’mon, it’s bedtime.”</p><p>He carried her inside and dropped her on her bed. Tora pulled her phone out of her purse and plugged it into the wall. He started hunting through her clothes to find pajamas. At last he tossed a t-shirt and her red shorts onto the bed beside her. He left to her kitchen to get her a glass of water.</p><p>He walked back in. She was sitting up on the bed, making a face, trying to figure out her zipper. The dress was practically backless, so the short zipper only covered her rear. Her coat was on the floor next to the bed.</p><p>“I need help,” she said.</p><p>He gulped.</p><p>“No ya don’t,” Tora said flatly. He put the glass of water down on her night table. “You’re an adult, Poppy. Figure it out.”</p><p>“Don’t be mean,” said Poppy. She turned her back to him and looked at him over her shoulder, pulling her hair away to reveal bare skin. “Please? I can’t…”</p><p>
  <em>Christ.</em>
</p><p>“Fine,” he grumbled.</p><p>He just wouldn’t look. Not hard, anyways. She wasn’t in her right mind. He’d never take advantage of her. But damn if she wasn’t giving him the biggest hard-on of his life. He walked closer to her and then onto the bed, kneeling behind her. He felt himself twitch; his dumb cock reacting to her nearness. He drew in an uneven breath and tried to get his mind right.</p><p>She’d missed a strand of her hair. His fingers shook as he reached out to brush it away. Tora exhaled hard. Slowly he swept the strand over her shoulder. He couldn’t help himself, and for a moment he reverently trailed his hand down her spine.</p><p>He shut his eyes. <em>Get a fucking hold of yourself</em>, he thought.</p><p>He gently took hold of her dress’s zipper. Slowly, he inched it down, parting the dress to reveal frilly panties.</p><p><em>Don’t look</em>, he told himself. But his eyes eagerly drank in every detail.</p><p>“I, uh…” he rubbed his hands on his thighs—why were his palms suddenly sweaty?—and backed up quickly off the bed. He blinked rapidly. He drew in a gulp of air and steadied himself. He turned back towards her.</p><p>Oh, fuck, she was facing him again, not paying any attention, wriggling out of the dress. He caught a glimpse of her chest and spun back around again, breathing hard. He stared at the ceiling. <em>Don’t look. Don’t fucking look, ya perv. She’s drunk. </em></p><p>“You got what ya need?” He said hoarsely. “Water? And, and… a shirt?”</p><p>“Ye-es, Tora, I have a shirt,” Poppy said.</p><p>He turned back around. She was tugging the shirt down over her chest. For a moment he could still see the rounded bottoms of her heavy tits, but at least the nipples were covered. They poked through the fabric, but they were covered.</p><p>She hadn’t put on the shorts yet. It was a good thing she was drunk, because his cock was erect and pressing hard against the confines of his jeans. Her dress was crumpled on the floor. In desperate need of a distraction, he picked it up, turned it right-side out, and folded it in half.</p><p>“Wanna sleep here?” Poppy asked, ignoring the shorts and climbing under her blankets.</p><p>
  <em>Goddamn, yes. Absolutely. More than anything.</em>
</p><p>“No,” he said, and put the dress back on the floor. “Get up, Poppy. You gotta lock the door behind me.”</p><p>“No,” she said, and yawned, nestling down against one of her pillows.</p><p>“Poppy, c’mon,” he begged.</p><p>“Make me,” she mumbled into her pillow, stretching her legs out.</p><p>He rubbed his forehead and groaned.</p><p>He wasn’t going to leave her, drunk in bed, with her door unlocked. And he honestly didn’t trust himself to sleep over. After a moment of thought, he found her desk and a piece of unicorn stationary. Snorting—was she cute <em>all</em> the goddamned time?—he grabbed a pen and scrawled out a note.</p><p>
  <em> Locking you in. Call when you’re up and I’ll bring the keys back. Hope your hangover isn’t too bad. Tora.</em>
</p><p>He ripped the paper off the sheet and went back to the bedroom. He put it on her night table next to the cup of water.</p><p>Poppy moaned and rolled onto her back, the blanket up to her chin. Her face was red.</p><p>“You okay?” he said.</p><p>“Mm.. Tora?” her eyes fluttered open. “I… thought you left…”</p><p><em>What the actual fuck. </em>Movement. Had she been touching herself under the blanket? He couldn’t decide if this was the best or the worst night of his life. It was definitely the hardest. In more ways than one.</p><p>“Christ, Poppy,” he said raggedly. “What the hell?”</p><p>He grabbed her keys and raced out the door, locking her in with shaking hands. Outside he slumped against the door and drew in one deep breath, then another.</p><p>He looked down at the keys. He wanted, so badly, to unlock the door and go back inside.</p><p>Slowly, with a groan, he began the long descent down to his car.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Confession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading and I'm so thankful folks have enjoyed so far!</p><p>Mini self-promotion: I’ve been asked a few times about my other writing. My main project is a YA fantasy romance that will not be done for aaaages (I am pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into every dang word) buuut I just released something small. So I’ve tossed the details in the notes below the chapter for anybody who’s interested -shrug- feel 10000% free to ignore.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night he dreamed about Poppy. Probably because he’d been thinking non-stop about nothing else when he fell asleep.</p><p>They weren’t particularly happy dreams. His never were.</p><p>Tora was still asleep when his phone rang. It jolted him awake. He looked at the screen with bleary eyes.</p><p>It was almost noon. Call it excitement; he had not been able to get to sleep for a long time. Not with his mind reeling. He kept remembering details of Poppy’s body that he knew he wasn’t supposed to see.</p><p>The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile at her name on the screen.</p><p>“Hey, kid,” he mumbled into the phone, blinking awake.</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy’s voice was wavering, nervous. “I’m sorry to bug you, but, um, have you seen my keys? Do you know where I put them last night?”</p><p>“Christ, Bobby, you were <em>that </em>drunk? Didn’t you see my note?” Lazily he closed his eyes and stretched his neck.</p><p>“Note?”</p><p>“Yeah, I left a note. I got your keys.”</p><p>“Oh fudge,” she moaned. “<em>That</em> note. I spilled water all over it.”</p><p>“You would,” he said, smirking.</p><p>“Shoot,” she groaned. “Oh, fudge biscuits. Snapple.”</p><p>“That sounds like a toddler’s shopping list,” he said dryly.</p><p>“I’m going to be so late,” Poppy moaned. “Can I swing by your place later and get the keys?”</p><p>“You’re not leaving your place unlocked. I’ll head over.” Damn, didn’t she know anything about keeping herself safe?</p><p>“But I have to go! I’ll miss my bus if I don’t leave, like, <em>right now.</em>”</p><p>“Shit, why’d ya wait ‘till now to call?” he grumbled, frowning at his wall.</p><p>“Because!” Her voice rose a pitch. “Because I just spent half an hour tearing my place apart! Looking for my keys! That you took!”</p><p>“Deep breath, Bobby. Where ya heading?” Tora sat up slowly in bed. His long hair was a messy dark halo around his face. He’d slept shirtless, his muscular, tattooed frame on full display.</p><p>“I’m supposed to get lunch with Mr. Lam, downtown.” She sounded like she was on the brink of tears. “Tora, I <em>can’t</em> be late. I <em>can’t.”</em></p><p>“Calm down, hamster. I can drive you. I’ll head right out. Don’t, you know, implode on yaself.”</p><p>She grumbled something unintelligible and hung up the phone. Tora stood up with a groan. He spared a moment for deodorant. Jeans, hoodie, hat; out the door. He had a hamster to save.</p><p>*</p><p>Tora knocked on the door. He could have let himself in, but it felt wrong. Presumptuous.</p><p>He didn’t want it to be wrong. He wanted to be welcome there. For the night before not to have been a one-off.</p><p>For it to have just been his life.</p><p>Poppy answered the door and gulped, looking at up at him. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her.</p><p>What was up with her face? She was bright red and her hands were trembling.</p><p>“Shit, you still worried about being late? Came as fast as I could,” he said.</p><p>“No, it’s not that,” she muttered, and took a step back away from him. She looked down at the ground and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was gonna have to take two buses to get there, so, you know. No rush now.”</p><p>Poppy was wearing a form-fitting dress, though this one high-necked and knee-length.</p><p>Oh god; for a moment he pictured in horrible, tantalizing detail <em>exactly</em> what was under that dress.</p><p>Tora looked away. Now neither of them were looking at the other. He licked his lips.</p><p>“You, uh...” He cleared his throat and put his hands determinedly in his pockets.</p><p>He never put his hands in his pockets; he usually kept them out, ready to fight, ready to react. But right now, he had no clue what the hell else to do with them.</p><p>He squinted up at the ceiling and cleared his throat.</p><p>“You feel okay?” Tora finished. “Hungover?”</p><p>“Fine,” Poppy muttered. “I hydrated all night.”</p><p>So if she wasn’t feeling ill, and she wasn’t worried about being late, why did she still look like she was about to have some kind of breakdown? He had a bad feeling it had to do with last night. He hoped she wasn’t embarrassed to be around him. For one thing, there was no need for her to be.</p><p>For another… if she was that upset about remembering him <em>seeing </em>her, about remembering how she’d clutched onto his leg, invited him to sleep over… if she was <em>that</em> embarrassed, did that mean she regretted it?</p><p>“Right,” he said. He nodded slowly. “So, uh. You wanna head out, or…?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy said. She cleared her throat. “You’re <em>sure</em> you can take me, Tora? I really don’t want to impose.”</p><p>“You’re five foot nothing; I can definitely take you,” he joked. He tore his gaze from the ceiling and smiled weakly at her, to say: <em>see, we’re cool</em>.</p><p>“You <em>know</em> that’s not what I…”</p><p>“I know. C’mon.” He held her keys out to her and she took them.</p><p>*</p><p>The car ride was awkward, and quiet. He put on the radio and clenched the steering wheel, watching her out of the corner of his eyes. Her body posture was tense, a purse hugged against her. She stared out the window.</p><p>He pulled up to the restaurant and checked the time. Fifteen minutes until her meeting with Lamb, lam, whatever the hell that fogey’s name was.</p><p>Poppy cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and blinked up at the ceiling.</p><p>“Tora,” she said, wincing. “I… I am <em>so sorry</em>… for how I acted last night.”</p><p>“Jesus, Bobby. It’s no big deal.”</p><p>“Obviously it was,” she said, her adorable face scrunching up.</p><p>“Nah, really. You were fine.”</p><p>What the hell did <em>she</em> remember? She was acting like she’d thrown up on him, or something.</p><p>“But… gah,” said Poppy. “I <em>really </em>didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It was such a stupid plan.”</p><p>Tora blinked. He frowned.</p><p>“Plan?” he asked, staring through his windshield at the restaurant with his eyebrows furrowed.</p><p>“Nothing,” she muttered, and went to open the door.</p><p>He hit the lock.</p><p>“Plan?” he said again. Poppy shook her head, not looking at him. “Poppylan, what fuckin’ plan are you talking about?”</p><p>“Nothing,” she said, groaning this time. “Just, nothing, okay? I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Tell me. Now.” He grabbed her wrist, his golden eyes fierce and unrelenting, boring into her. She shrunk away in embarrassment, her face still strawberry red.</p><p>“I can’t,” Poppy wailed.</p><p>“You tell me right now, or I’m gonna fuckin’ kidnap you and then you <em>will</em> be late,” he said. “What ‘plan?’”</p><p>“I just… I was… I was going to try and, and… oh god. Erdene said…” she was blabbering. He kept his grip on her wrist and waited for her to sort it out. “Just, I don’t know, I thought it would be fun, but I didn’t mean to get <em>so drunk</em>, and…”</p><p>“Thought what would be fun?” he said, trying to act patient even though his heart was thumping.</p><p>She whispered something under her breath. He squinted.</p><p>“Did you just say,” Tora said slowly, “’seduce me?’ Poppylan, were you trying to fuckin’ seduce me?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she cried, and pulled her hand from his loose grip on her wrist.</p><p>Tora sat back against his seat, eyes wide. He exhaled. He turned back towards her. Her head was bowed.</p><p>“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” he asked.</p><p>“All I remember is I kept trying to, you know, get you interested, and all you wanted to do was leave,” she said, her voice trembling. “I know you must think I’m really gross.”</p><p>“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Poppylan,” he said, barking out a laugh. “You were drunk as hell. I was <em>trying</em> not to be a dick and take advantage. You’re not gross. You’re hot as hell.”</p><p>She blinked, and peered up at him.</p><p>“Aw, hell,” he said. How couldn't he melt a little with her big eyes peering up at him, and her lips trembling, and a blush still over her cheeks?</p><p>He took hold of her hand, gently; it was limp in his grip. Tora sighed.</p><p>He leaned across the console and kissed her gently. She blinked and hesitated for a moment, then gulped. Then her lips were moving gently against his. He deepened the kiss, and felt his heart fluttering—which was not exactly a sensation Tora was used to.</p><p>He pulled away, panting a little.</p><p>“So,” Tora said. “You, uh. You let me know when you’re done with your meeting, and we… uh. We can pick that up. Okay?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>WHY DOES THIS FEEL SO EMBARASSING, but I, er, wrote an erotic novella...??? Don't judge me? Just kidding, judge away.</p><p>Alright, so… a warning: the smut is far rougher and more explicit than my fanfic, which looks like a bowl of sparkly, romantic marshmallow fluff in comparison. The main male lead is highly problematic. You have been warned.</p><p>Anyhoooo, here’s a highly x-rated retelling of beauty and the beast in which the beast’s curse is to be perpetually turned on and unable to finish until he learns to stop being a selfish lover. It'll be free on Amazon for 5 days starting tomorrow if you'd like to help support me without spending any $$; it's also part of Kindle unlimited so free already if you have that. </p><p>https://tinyurl.com/yykmoeof</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Horizontal Dancer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, like, um, who saw it coming that when I said "this is a three part story" it was not actually going to wrap up in three parts?</p><p>Sorry for the short update, and drawing it out. Still super busy with school but I'm having fun writing this and hopefully the fourth (and maybe/probably final? Who even knows) smutty smutty chapter will be out in a few days or so</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora sat at a corner table of the coffee shop, his back against the wall so nobody could get a jump on him. His hat shaded his face, and his hood was up over his hat.</p><p> The tiger stared at his phone. One of his legs bounced up and down. He sighed and flicked through his texts, then went back online.</p><p>“You good, bro?” Gyu asked, passing by with a bus-bin.</p><p>Tora glanced up, grunted, and went back to his phone.</p><p>At last his phone buzzed, the word <em>Bobby</em> appearing at the top of the screen.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Thanks again for the ride. I’m done but I can take the bus back if you’re busy.</em>
</p><p>Did she not know what “let me know when you’re done and we can pick that up” meant?</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Don’t be stupid. Be there in five.</em>
</p><p>Tora jammed his phone into his pocket without waiting for a response.</p><p>*</p><p>Parked in front of the restaurant, he watched the small woman emerge from the door. She grinned and shook hands with the older gentleman, then scanned the street and noticed Tora.</p><p>He looked away quickly, like he hadn’t seen her. <em>Wait, no, stupid, you’re here to meet her.</em></p><p><em>Jesus. Fuck.</em> Get up? Open the door for her? No, that was trying to hard. Right? She wasn’t his fucking girlfriend, she was just a girl he wanted to fuck. Right?</p><p>Christ, the hell was wrong with him? One small comment from her and he was a damned mess. How the mighty had fallen.</p><p>Poppy opened the car door and slid into the seat.</p><p>“Hey,” Tora said, very casually. His mouth was entirely dry.</p><p>“Thanks for picking me up,” she said with a sigh. “I <em>really</em> need to get that scooter fixed, huh?”</p><p>She stretched, tilting her head back and taking a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye Tora watched her substantial chest rise and fall. He coughed and turned away.</p><p>“S’not a problem,” he said. “How’d it go?”</p><p>“Fine,” she said, and smiled at him. “Thanks for asking.”</p><p>Tora nodded, then stared through his windshield at nothing. After a moment he glanced back at her.</p><p>“So, uh. You wanna?”</p><p>Poppy raised an eyebrow and clicked in her seatbelt.</p><p>“Wanna what, Tora?” she asked.</p><p>“You know.”</p><p>“Use your words,” she said.</p><p>He glared.</p><p>“You’re too easy,” Poppy said with a giggle.</p><p>“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he grabbed the brim of his hat and jerked it moodily an inch down.</p><p>“To tease,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Too easy to <em>tease</em>.”</p><p>“Christ,” Tora muttered. “So cute on the outside. Pure fuckin’ snark inside.”</p><p>“What, you’re just learning that now? Anyways, I’m pretty sure you like it.”</p><p>“So what if I do,” he muttered.</p><p>“…anyways,” Poppy said. “Your place, or mine?”</p><p>“Thought you’d never ask,” Tora grumbled, and reversed out of the parking spot.</p><p>*</p><p>Tora drove to Poppy’s. He hadn’t exactly been expecting to bring someone home, and he didn’t think his unwashed sheets and empty cans of strawberry juice were going to get Poppy going.</p><p>He followed her inside and watched her kick off her heels.</p><p><em>Just fucking go for it</em>, he told himself. <em>Stop acting like a fuckin’ virgin</em>. <em>Just ‘cuz she’s cute. She as good as said she wants to fuck you, so do it.</em></p><p>He grabbed her waist. Poppy froze and stared up at him. Her elbows were tucked against her side, her hands up. She bit her lip.</p><p>“Oh,” she breathed.</p><p>“This okay?” he said roughly.</p><p>She blushed and nodded, and he closed the gap between them.</p><p>Jesus, she was short. He had to bend so far over to kiss her, and Poppy was up on her tiptoes with her head thrown all the way back. He cupped the back of her head to help her out, and kept his other hand tight on her waist.</p><p>Her lips were as soft as he’d remembered. He moved his mouth gently against hers at first, then firmer.</p><p>Their bodies crushed together. He lifted his face an inch away. Poppy’s eyes were closed, her lips parted. Her eyes flickered open slowly as Tora exhaled.</p><p>“So, your plan have any steps, Bobby?” he asked.</p><p>“U-um,” Poppy said. “It wasn’t exactly a flowchart-level plan, Tora. More just a goal.”</p><p>“Jumping right to the end, huh?” he said with a smirk. He pulled her with him until his back was against the wall, then slid down. Poppy was straddling him on the floor now. Her knee-length dress scrunched up around her waist as her legs parted around his lap. He squeezed one of her calves.</p><p>She gulped, her hands resting gently on his shoulders.</p><p>His dick was rock-hard, and she was sitting right on it. No way she could miss that. The thought that his cock could be inside her before long made him groan a little.</p><p>Poppy looked down and bit her lip. Then she glanced up. He raised an eyebrow and ran his hand along her back, stopping with his hand on her rounded ass. He gave her a squeeze and she squeaked.</p><p>“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, Bobby,” he muttered, his face serious. After how horny he'd been last night, and how excited he'd been the last hour, the idea of going home with blue balls was excruciating. </p><p>“No,” she said. “But I’m not like you.”</p><p>“Not like me how?” he asked.</p><p>“Not a good, um, ‘horizontal dancer?’”</p><p>“I’m sure you’re fine,” he said with a half-smile. The large hand he had on her ass pulled at her, grinding her against him. His other hand found its way to the back of her neck, supporting her as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her again. "Besides, I know a couple moves I'd be more than happy to show ya."</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy breathed. “I wanna do this, but can we take it slow?”</p><p>“Slow like you just wanna make out, or slow like…”</p><p>“Just take your time, okay?” she whispered.</p><p>The corner of his mouth twitched and he narrowed his eyes at her. Tora breathed out through his nose. He loosened his grip on her rear and moved his hand to her waist, then leaned forward and trailed his lips up her neck. </p><p>Poppy gasped lightly and tilted her head away. Tora's mouth found her earlobe. He brushed his lips against it, then along her jaw, then to her mouth. </p><p>"Yeah," he murmured. "I'm gonna take my damn sweet time with you."</p><p>He pulled her tightly against him and stood carefully, supporting Poppy as she wrapped her legs around him. She buried her face against his neck and pressed a kiss there, making Tora's eyelids flicker closed. Fighting the urge to toss her to the floor and rip her clothes off then and there, he carried her into the bedroom. </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Ticklish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>enjoy and sorry it's not -all the smut at once-</p><p>also, thanks to everyone who read my beauty and the beast thing haha, I sincerely appreciate it! I'm currently working on Cinderella  because I had way too much fun with the first one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            In the bedroom, Tora moved his hands to Poppy’s waist and started to lower her to the floor. She unhooked her legs from around him and fell lightly to her feet, arms still against him.</p><p>            His hands still on her waist, the tiger leaned back over Poppy to kiss her. Her lips were soft, and moved responsively to his. Like they were speaking without words. He swallowed and slowly pulled his mouth away, his eyes studying her.</p><p>            Poppy blinked at him, and Tora realized he was probably staring a little <em>too</em> hard. Impossible not to. He reached around her and found the zipper on the back of her dress. He pulled it down smoothly, then drew the garment up over her head.</p><p>            Barely breathing, Tora reached next for her bra.</p><p>            “What happened to taking your time?” Poppy scolded, her cheeks red and her hands over her chest.</p><p>            “I was still gonna,” grumbled Tora. “Just, y’know, <em>after</em> I got you naked.”</p><p>            She giggled, and he put his hands onto her waist. Her skin was so damn soft, and warm to the touch. Closing the distance between them, he ran his hands firmly over her. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. Tora lightly squeezed her shoulders and dragged his grip down her arms, then cupped her ass, then trailed his fingers up her hips.</p><p>She tilted her head up and he kissed her again, harder this time. His need was starting to get urgent, even as determined as he was to follow her desires.</p><p>            Tora turned them both around and lowered himself to sit on the bed, pulling Poppy once again to straddle his lap.</p><p>            Tora exhaled hard, looking down at her chest and the panties that just covered her pussy.</p><p>            Poppy lifted his hat off his head and tossed it to the side. In a smooth motion, Tora grabbed his shirt and sweatshirt and yanked them up over his head.</p><p>            “Holy heck,” said Poppy, eyes wide. Her hand traced against his chest. “Erm, how often do you work out?”</p><p>            “What, see something ya like?” he smirked.</p><p>            “No-oo, but I guess you weren’t lying about how much time you had to kill.”</p><p>            Tora narrowed his eyes. Grabbing her butt, he have her a squeeze. She jerked forward against him, biting her lip.</p><p>            “Rude,” he informed her. “And you’re a shit liar. Admit it.”</p><p>            “You already <em>know</em> you look good,” Poppy muttered.</p><p>            But she leaned forward. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Poppy kissed him. Her chest crushed against his, her crotch pressing down on his.</p><p>            Tora’s heart skipped a beat. He froze, and Poppy pulled away.</p><p>            “Are you okay?” she asked.</p><p>            He nodded slowly. God, her hair fell around her like waves; her eyes were so big he could damn near fall into them. He drew his hands away from her rear and lightly cupped her face, burying his hands into her hair. He pulled her back to him and brushed his lips lightly across hers.</p><p>            Then, holding her against him, Tora rolled her over onto her back on the bed. He hung above her on his hands and knees. His lips began to roam her body, pressing across her smooth skin and making his heart known.</p><p>            Cheek, forehead, lips, and neck. He buried his face between her breasts and kissed the smooth valley of skin there. Moved lower, just above her bellybutton.</p><p>            The side of her waist.</p><p>            Poppy giggled and jerked away from him.</p><p>            “No?” Tora asked.</p><p>            “That tickles,” she said.</p><p>            “Does it?” Tora whispered. He dragged one of his hands down and trailed his fingers over the spot as lightly as he could, like feathers were brushing her.</p><p>            Poppy <em>spasmed</em>, her body wriggling to get away from his hands. He caught her as she moved, and traced his fingers over the spot once more.</p><p>            “<em>Stop stop stop</em>,” Poppy choked out between crazed laughter.</p><p>            He stopped, laughing silently as he looked down at her.</p><p>            She was still squirming around, a giggle escaping her lips every now and then.</p><p>            “Shit, I’m not even touching you anymore,” he said.</p><p>            “I know,” she gasped. He reached for her waist and she practically flipped on her side with a squeak.</p><p>            Tora grabbed her wrists, and the tempo of her movement changed. She wasn’t giggling anymore, just breathing hard and looking up at him, her lips parted and her eyes glazed over with lust.</p><p>            “Shit,” he murmured. “You done?”</p><p>            “I don’t know. Are you going to keep tickling me?” Poppy asked breathily.</p><p>            “Not on purpose,” Tora said.</p><p>            He bent down and kissed her on the lips. He felt Poppy relax against him, her body pressing up involuntarily to meet his. He released her wrists, supporting himself on one elbow while his other hand trailed down her side, firmly at first so as to not tickle her, then… he couldn’t resist, and brushed his fingers across the spot again.</p><p>            Poppy bucked up against him as a mad giggle escaped her.</p><p>            “<em>Stop</em>,” she said.</p><p>            “Not my fault you’re fucking adorable,” he said.</p><p>            “I’m serious,” she said.</p><p>            “I’m done,” he promised. He sat up and looked at her.</p><p>            She lay back and looked back, her mouth still turned up in a smile.</p><p>            “Can I take off your bra yet?” he said.</p><p>            “You’re still wearing pants. I don’t want to be the only one naked.”</p><p>            He rose to his knees, planted between hers. Without taking his eyes from her face, Tora unbuttoned his jeans and undid the zipper. Then Poppy sat up and took hold of his jeans, inching them down. Tora exhaled slowly, transfixed by the image of her undressing him.</p><p>            His big cock was rigid, visible through his boxers.</p><p>            She trailed her fingers along the outline, then closed her hand halfway around it.</p><p>            Tora’s brain stopped working for a moment. His lips moved silently as his eyes narrowed.</p><p>            Then Poppy lay back.</p><p>            “You gonna stop there?” Tora gasped.</p><p>            “We’ll get there,” she said.</p><p>            “Christ,” he moaned. He finished taking off his pants, and after a split second of hesitation removed his boxers as well.</p><p>            He came back over her, his breath heavy and his jaw tight with his attempt at restraint. Tora pulled Poppy up an inch, reaching under her back to twist her bra’s hooks open. Then he pulled the contraption away from her.</p><p>            He cupped one of her breasts. He was pretty sure he was blushing like a damn schoolboy. Lowering his body over hers, Tora kissed his way slowly to her chest, not sure whether he was teasing Poppy or himself.</p><p>            Slowly, savoring it, he placed his lips around one of her nipples. Poppy gasped lightly; he could feel the nipple harden as he lightly sucked at it.</p><p>            He didn’t think he could get any harder, but his shaft throbbed. Desire hummed through every inch of him. The skin of her breast was so soft.</p><p>            He groaned a little and closed his eyes. <em>Don’t rush this.</em></p><p>Tora pulled his lips away.</p><p>            “Poppylan. You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice husky with desire.</p><p>            “C’mon,” she said, and giggled.</p><p>            “I’m serious,” Tora said.</p><p>            “Thanks,” she responded softly, with a blush.</p><p>            He pushed himself up and stroked a hand off the fabric of her panties. He could feel a tiny spot of dampness through the cloth. Apparently, she was as aroused as he was. He wouldn’t have thought that possible.</p><p>            “Can I take these off of you?” Tora asked, his voice low.</p><p>            Poppy nodded, and touched a hand to his cheek.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the cliff hanger last time, hopefully this is a little more -coughcough- "satisfying"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poppy lifted her hips as Tora dragged off her panties. His heart beat double-time.</p><p>Now she was entirely, utterly naked, lying back on the bed and biting her lip. Her wide eyes regarded him with a mix of wariness and lust. He knelt between her spread legs.</p><p>Reverently he placed one large hand over her mound, his thumb brushing along the crease of her pink lips. She was slick with desire. He felt his chest cave as he exhaled hard, and pressed his thumb firmly against her, pushing between her folds and into her center.</p><p>“Tora,” she said. “What about a safeword?”</p><p>He dragged his eyes away from her beautiful pussy and met her gaze squarely.</p><p>“What? You wanna do some kinky shit or something?” Tora asked.</p><p>Poppy’s wide eyes widened further.</p><p>“Uh, you’re supposed to have a safe word,” she said.</p><p>“I mean, if you want me to dom ya, I…”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Poppy yelped, curling in on herself slightly. He pulled his hand away from her center and moved his grip to her thigh.</p><p>“Jesus, you’re the one who wanted a safe word. How the hell should I know what you’re into? You wanna tie <em>me</em> up or something?” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“No!” Poppy said. “I just want to have, <em>you know</em>, the ordinary way.”</p><p>“'<em>You know?' </em>Uh, sex?”</p><p>Poppy blushed and turned away from him. Tora shook his head and rolled his eyes.</p><p>“C’mon,” he said gently, fighting back a smile. He took hold of her by her hips. He sat back, dragging her back onto his lap. In a second Poppy was perched on him, his engorged cock resting against the flesh of her stomach, her lips inches from his own. She rested her hands against his chest, her lips trembling.</p><p>“You’re a huge fucking nerd,” Tora informed her seriously. “A sexy, cute nerd, but a huge fuckin’ nerd.”</p><p>“But…”</p><p>“Got an idea for a safeword,” Tora said. “It’s called ‘no.’ Also, ‘stop,’ ‘don’t,’ or whatever the hell else gets the point across. We good?”</p><p>“You don’t have to make fun of me,” Poppy muttered.</p><p>“But you’re so cute when you get all flustered,” Tora smirked. He tucked her hair behind her ear, cradling her head with one hand. She peered up at him and he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her slowly, his other hand stroking up and down her back, then coming around to knead one of her tits.</p><p>She leaned into the kiss. As their lips moved together, Poppy slowly relaxed against him. Her hands trailed down his chest, then up to trace his muscular shoulders and his thick, chiseled arms.</p><p>Then her hands dropped lower, to his hips.</p><p>He lowered a hand, too. Tora traced his way down to her center. He groaned as he slid two fingers back inside her. He pulled his lips away from hers for a moment, all his attention fixed on the way her warm, tight body gripped him. That, and how wet she was.</p><p>His head buzzed. All he could think about was how good it was going to feel when he fucked her.</p><p>
  <em>Not yet. Take it slow.</em>
</p><p>He pumped his fingers in and out of her. Poppy’s back bent, pressing her ample bosom against him. Her head fell against his shoulder; he felt her panting breaths against the tattoo on his neck. Tora bent his head over hers, inhaling her sweet, floral perfume.</p><p>His dick throbbed, ached, pulsed—<em>fucking christ</em>, how badly he needed her. Something from her. Anything.</p><p>One hand was still inside her; with the other, he found one of Poppy’s hands and gently drew it towards his cock.</p><p>“Please?” he murmured to her.</p><p>She pushed herself up off his shoulder and wrapped both hands around his shaft. Tora was a little too thick for her to make a fist around him, and too long for her hands to cover entirely. He exhaled hard and leaned his forehead against hers as she began to stroke him, firm but slow.</p><p>For a moment, his fingers stilled inside her. He groaned as Poppy’s grip enveloped him, rubbing down his shaft and then back up again. With a force of effort, he willed his fingers to keep moving inside her.</p><p>He tilted his head down, to watch her hands on him.</p><p>“You’re kinda huge,” Poppy muttered.</p><p>“Wha’d ya expect?” he moaned. “Six foot three.”</p><p>“You love bringing that up, huh?” Poppy said.</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Tora said. He jammed his fingers harder into her and she buckled, a moan escaping her lips. He pulled his fingers out and teased her clit.</p><p>He moved her off him, pushing her down so she was laying on the bed again. Poppy gazed up at him, her hands still on his shaft.</p><p>He needed a break from her touch. Otherwise the whole “take it slow” thing wasn’t going to work. A few more strokes and he—<em>he—</em>was going to be <em>begging</em> her to let him put it in, and Tora was not the begging sort.</p><p>She let go of him as he moved out of reach, lowering himself down the bed until his mouth was between her legs. Tora sucked gently at her, savoring the way her hips moved against his lips.</p><p>Better: still enjoyable, but he wasn’t about to lose control anymore. He closed his eyes as her fingers wrapped into his hair. Tora propped himself on his elbows, his hands wrapped around her thick thighs, as he tasted her and played with her clit.</p><p>Poppy moaned when he slid two fingers back into her, and cried out when he circled her clit with his tongue, and lost it entirely when he did both together. Fucking hamster nearly gave him a fat lip by violently bucking her hips up against him without warning.</p><p>After she came, Tora kissed the inside of one of her thighs and moved back up the bed.</p><p>“You still need me to draw this out?” he asked, his voice a rough and hoarse with desire. He dug his hand into her tangles of hair as Poppy panted at him, her eyes still glossy.</p><p>“Huh?” she whispered. “Oh, uh, you can…”</p><p>“I can fuck you?” he asked, his other hand finding its way back between her legs.</p><p>Poppy whimpered and squirmed against it, pushing his fingers inside her with the motion of his hips.</p><p><em>Holy fuck</em>, Tora thought, his mouth suddenly dry, his lips parted, his eyes glued to her.</p><p>“Yeah,” she moaned. “You can do me.”</p><p>
  <em>Holy fuck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jesus. </em>
</p><p>However sexy he’d thought her before, it was nothing—<em>nothing—</em>compared to naked, blissed-out Poppy moving herself against his hand, her eyes narrow and her mouth parted around soft moans and cries.</p><p>“I’ll get a condom,” he said, reluctantly drawing his hand away from her. Unable to help himself, he brought that same hand to her chest for a moment, drawing a circle around one of her nipples with his wet finger. He lowered his lips to lick it away.</p><p>“’S a box under the bed,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Hmm?” Tora pulled his head up and looked at her.</p><p>She got up and scooted to the edge of the mattress, then bent over it to grab at something underneath.</p><p>Her ass was sticking up a little, pointed at him.</p><p>He exhaled hard and moved behind her, wrapping his hands around her hips and leaning over her.</p><p>His rigid cock pressed against her rear. Tora traced one of his hands down her back.</p><p>Poppy straightened, her back meeting his torso.</p><p>She turned over her shoulder to hand him a condom.</p><p>He took it one-handed, wrapping his other arm around her stomach and holding her against him. Tora bent to kiss her neck as Poppy leaned back into his embrace.</p><p>“How d’you want it?” he whispered.</p><p>“Um, any… whatever,” Poppy murmured.</p><p>“Any whatever. Got it,” Tora chuckled.</p><p>He looked down. The condom wrapper said XL. She hadn’t bought these just with him in mind, had she? Had they been from her ex? Tora still didn’t know what that cheating fuckwad looked like.</p><p>A strange, sudden determination filled him, seemingly out of nowhere: his jealous, possessive side rearing its head. He couldn’t help but imagine that these <em>had</em> been her exes, that he was <em>also</em> a big guy.</p><p>Tora was sure as hell going to show Poppy a better time than that fucker.</p><p>He ripped the wrapper open and unrolled it down his length, shaking his head minutely.</p><p>“Something wrong?” Poppy asked, turning to face him.</p><p>“No,” Tora said. He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, then pulled her down on the bed.</p><p>He lined himself up with her, nudging the tip of his shaft up against, then just between, the folds of her opening.</p><p>“You ready, sweetheart?” Tora said, his voice a growl, his jaw clenched tightly as he fought against the urge to bury himself entirely in the small woman under him.</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy said. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands clinging to him.</p><p>He bowed his head, exhaled, and drove his cock in.</p><p>Her body parted around him as he slid inside. She was tight, but between her wetness and the condom’s lubrication, there was only <em>good</em> friction.</p><p>Tora lowered himself from his hands to his elbows as a moan escaped him. One escaped Poppy, too.</p><p>Deeper. Deeper in.</p><p>He peered down at where their bodies joined, then rocked himself forward. Poppy gasped. No length left; every fraction of an inch of him was inside her. Tora hovered over Poppy.</p><p>He drew himself out, then eased his shaft inside her again.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Tora moaned. “Fuck, Poppylan.”</p><p>She gripped him tighter, and wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together.</p><p>He forgot his resolve, made just moments ago, to show her a good time. She was fucking magic; there was no room left for thoughts, or intentions, not just then. All his brain had room for was the overwhelming need to pump in and out of her.</p><p>He dug his feet into the bed and thrust, quicker each time, until he was slicking in and out of her at a steady pace. Their bodies smacked together; Poppy moaned. He grunted.</p><p>Tora paused to lift her ankles to his shoulders. He held her in place and gritted his teeth, and hammered in and out of her.</p><p>He wanted her every way. He wanted to try everything with her. Maybe it was her body; maybe it was the way he felt about her. But being in her felt so fucking good. Best he’d ever felt, maybe.</p><p>He pulled out and pawed her over. She complied, and Tora pulled her up by the hips until she was on her hands and knees. His fingers fumbled at her for a moment, finding her pussy again, before he guided his drenched, condom-wrapped, iron-hard behemoth of a dick back to her lips.</p><p>Tora groaned as he slid back inside Poppy, his hands gripping the sides of her round ass. She looked over her shoulder at him, panting, lips parted.</p><p>“Oohh,” Poppy moaned. Her eyes flickered closed.</p><p>“You like that?” Tora rasped.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said.</p><p>“Me too,” he growled. He closed his eyes for a moment as he rocked in and out of her.</p><p>With each thrust his mind went blanker.</p><p>“I'm close,” he warned her.</p><p>Poppy ground herself back against him, and then Tora was pushing her flat onto her stomach. He eased a hand beneath her to take hold of one of her breasts. His other hand moved her hair away from her neck. He bent to kiss her there, then propped himself just over her and dug his shaft deep in her.</p><p>His muscular ass pounded up and down, driving his shaft swiftly between her parted legs and slick folds.</p><p>An avalanche. Like an avalanche of pleasure, pulling the whole world down around it.</p><p>He lost consciousness, maybe, for a moment. Couldn’t even remember later when his cum pumped out of him, spurting against the walls of the condom. Couldn’t remember the low groan of satisfaction that escaped his lips. Couldn’t remember how he’d squeezed Poppy tight up against him. How she’d let out a long, low moan at the feeling of him pulsing inside her.</p><p>He just remembered the overwhelming, absolute bliss before, and then lying on top of her back afterwards. He took a deep breath, then another. His eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. His whole body felt loose and relaxed. Almost like the few times he’d tried drugs, so long before. Like he was high out of his damned mind.</p><p>Pure fucking ecstasy: that was Poppylan.</p><p>Slowly he rose up, easing his covered shaft out of her.</p><p>“You okay?” he murmured.</p><p>Poppy slowly rolled over onto her back, beneath him.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said softly. She looked relaxed, too; her body language soft and open, her eyes half-closed, her mouth half-smiling.</p><p>He kissed her, long and slow.</p><p>“Be right back,” Tora said.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Don't Ruin the Moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me: they're gonna bang in chapter 3 and then this story is going to end<br/>Also me: AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED</p><p> </p><p>Also, for those who who liked my Beauty &amp; the Beast retelling (obv. zero pressure I know it's not everyone's cup of tea and not why people are here lol), here's the link to Cinderella; it's free for the next few days: https://tinyurl.com/yxdbvj95</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora knotted the condom and tossed it in the trash. He rinsed his hands in Poppy’s bathroom sink and crossed his arms, frowning at himself in the mirror.</p><p>There had been a small amount of blood.</p><p>He knew it wasn’t his business, but couldn’t help turning it over in his head. He hadn’t <em>hurt</em> her or something, right? No, no way. He didn’t think so.</p><p>Tora only knew the basics about periods. He hadn’t exactly grown up surrounded by women, and it wasn’t a topic he’d ever felt inspired to educate himself on. But he’d had a couple on-and-off sexual partners before; you picked up a few things. He was <em>pretty</em> sure that was the likely answer. Just timing. Nothing he needed to worry about.</p><p>That led to a final thought: was he supposed to <em>say</em> anything? No, right? He didn’t want to make her feel awkward, or uncomfortable. He didn’t see what the big deal was (blood was blood), but the few women who had talked about it with him in the past had always seemed to expect the worst from him. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.</p><p>He smiled to himself, flipping off the light switch and returning to the bedroom. <em>Ruin the moment.</em></p><p>Nice, to have a moment he didn’t want to ruin.</p><p>Poppy was still in bed, buried underneath the blankets now. Her eyes were half-closed. It was still early afternoon, but he felt about as relaxed and tired as she looked. Still naked, Tora slid under the blankets and pulled her warm, soft body against his. She let him, pressing herself up against him.</p><p>It was too soon for him to go again, and he was pretty damn satisfied, but he couldn’t help but feel a faint stirring of attraction at the way she felt in his arms.</p><p>He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then gently stroked her shoulder.</p><p>“Wanna do something?” Poppy murmured.</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“I don’t know. It’s a nice day. Maybe get coffee and go to a park or something?”</p><p>“Not really my scene.” He opened his eyes and glanced down at her. Those big eyes were looking up at him. “Ah, shit. Why not. Let’s do it.”</p><p>“In a little while. Not yet,” she suggested, her hands curled against his chest.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tora agreed.</p><p>Then he just found himself saying it, like an idiot, because what if it <em>was</em> something she needed to know about and she would <em>want</em> him to tell her?</p><p>“Hey Poppy? Don’t freak out or anything, kay?”</p><p>“What?” She pulled a bit away from him to watch his face.</p><p>“I don’t give a fuck but there was some blood. On the condom. Just figured I should tell ya in case you weren’t, uh, expecting that right now.” He glanced away from her but tightened his arms around her.</p><p>“Oh,” Poppy muttered. She buried her head against his chest, and Tora looked down at her again.</p><p>“I don’t care,” he said quickly. “I mean, shit, I get blood on me<em> all</em> the fucking time.”</p><p>“Ew, Tora,” Poppy yelped. “That’s <em>disgusting</em>. I <em>don’t</em> want to <em>know </em>what.”</p><p>He snorted.</p><p>He sort of expected her to get up after he told her, but she obviously knew more about it all than he did, so he wrote it off. Neither of them spoke for a while. Poppy stayed curled up against him, his arms around her.</p><p>Tora closed his eyes again. He wasn’t tired but he was so damn relaxed.</p><p>At last Poppy got up. He hadn’t realized how warm her body was until it was gone, leaving only an empty space in the bed beside him.</p><p>“Don’t look,” she said, her hands covering her tits—well, not that they covered much. He wanted to point out that was fucking stupid because he’d spent the last hour holding her and staring at her, not to mention fucking her, and why should that suddenly have to change because she was getting out of bed?</p><p>Instead he just nodded and closed his eyes.</p><p>He heard her rummaging through her drawers, then hopping around on one foot—pulling on pants? Then her footsteps leaving; then the bathroom door closing.</p><p>For a moment Tora remained lying on the bed.</p><p>Then curiosity got the better of him. Keeping half his attention on guard for Poppy’s return, he leaned over the bed and found the box of condoms.</p><p>Looked full.</p><p>Huh.</p><p><em>Could mean all sorts of things</em>, he told himself. <em>Don’t jump to fuckin’ conclusions, you know better’n that.</em></p><p>He put it back and stood up. He had just pulled on his boxers when Poppy reappeared. She was dressed simply, jeans and a t-shirt, with a high-ponytail.</p><p>“Those fish last night were cool, huh?” she said, grabbing a cardigan and pulling it on.</p><p>“You got a pretty low bar for ‘cool,’ huh?” he said.</p><p>Poppy frowned at him. He rolled his eyes and smiled.</p><p>“<em>Anyway</em>,” she said. “Idea: wanna go to the zoo?”</p><p>“…the zoo?” He crossed his arms and looked down at her, frowning a little.</p><p>“Yeah,” she grabbed a pair of socks from her drawer and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on, then winced.</p><p>“You okay?” Tora asked.</p><p>“Uh-huh. The shoes last night gave me a blister, that’s all.”</p><p>“You sure you wanna walk around, then?” Tora muttered. He yanked on his jeans.</p><p>“I’ll be okay.”</p><p>“Let me see.” He fastened the button.</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>He knelt, still shirtless, long hair spilling down his back. Tora took hold of her foot. The blister wasn’t too bad.</p><p>“Got a band-aid?”</p><p>“Of course,” Poppy said. “You know me, I like to be prepared.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Change</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the angst. I am an angst-monster. But I can promise up down and sideways, if there's one thing I love more than emotionally torturing characters, it's happy endings...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He felt good leaving Poppy’s place. Got into the car, pulled out of the lot, nodded back to Gyu in the guardhouse. Relaxed, happy, careless.</p><p>He felt alright pulling onto the highway. Merged into traffic, glared at the car in front of him, glanced at Poppy. Confused, torn, uncertain.</p><p>Felt like shit, by the time he pulled into the zoo.</p><p>Tora parked and looked down at his hands. One still had Poppy’s nail polish on it.</p><p>“Um, are you okay?” Poppy asked.</p><p>And then the fucking dam in Tora broke.</p><p>“Dunno. What the fuck are we doing?” Tora asked.</p><p>“…you aren’t talking about the zoo, are you?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“You made it pretty damn clear last night you don’t want shit to ‘change’ between us.”</p><p>“Yeah, but… so?”</p><p>“So what the hell is today?” Tora said. He glared at her, like it was her fault that he'd just slept with her and then driven here.</p><p>“I thought you were having a good time?” Poppy said slowly.</p><p>“Uh-huh. Was. But if you don’t want shit to change, why the hell are we on a fucking date?” He couldn't make sense of what was happening, of how he felt, of what was going through his head.</p><p>“<em>Date</em>? I just thought it would be fun. To hang out.”</p><p>He shook his head and pulled out a cigarette.</p><p>"Do I look like the type of fucker who goes to the zoo with his friends?" Tora said. "This is girlfriend shit, Poppy."</p><p>"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she said anxiously.</p><p>“I don’t know. Just tell me what the hell we are. Fuckbuddies?” Tora grumbled.</p><p>He lit the cigarette, then rolled down both their windows and dangled it outside. He didn’t look at Poppy. He looked straight ahead, at the families getting out of their cars, the kid walking with a balloon, the suburban mom with a coffee cup and smudged lipstick, the teenage babysitter who looked a little overwhelmed.</p><p>His broad shoulders were tense. He didn’t belong here. Not for a second.</p><p>He missed the play of expressions across Poppy’s face. She took a breath and buttoned her cardigan.</p><p>“Do we have to be anything?” Poppy asked at last. “Can’t we just…”</p><p>“Look,” Tora interrupted. He stared at the flickering ember that was the end of the cigarette, at the loose coil of smoke drifting towards the sky. “I <em>won’t</em> be your fucking rebound.”</p><p>“<em>Rebound?</em> Tora, you <em>aren’t.”</em></p><p>“We can fuck, or we can be friends. We <em>can’t</em> do both unless you wanna be something more.”</p><p>“I…” she raised a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. Poppy swallowed. “Tora…”</p><p>“Choose,” he said.</p><p>Poppy was silent.</p><p>“I can’t,” she said at last, softly. “Why do I have to?”</p><p>“Because I can’t fucking do this,” Tora said, his voice rising, impatient. “Because I like you too damn much, okay? And if you don’t want to be <em>in this</em>, then fine, fucking fine, I get it, but you don’t get to fuck me and then drag me around and make me care about you if you’re just going to walk away the moment you meet some other fuckin’ dude.”</p><p>“I’m not!” Poppy said. “It’s not <em>like</em> that, Tora. I don’t <em>want</em> to be with anyone else, I just… I'm not ready to...”</p><p>“Don’t want to be alone?” he said. “Want someone to fuck you and take you out and make you feel good, someone disposable?” He looked out the window.</p><p>“Tora, no. I care about you. You’re not disposable. I… I <em>gave</em> myself to you. ” Her voice sounded like it was breaking. </p><p>“Good,” he said, hoarsely, bitterly. “We’re talking about that? Did you buy those condoms just for today?”</p><p>Color rose in her cheeks as she stared at him.</p><p>"I... so what?"</p><p>"Was I your fucking <em>first</em>, Poppy?"</p><p>“Why does it matter?” Poppy said under her breath.</p><p>“Because that <em>means something</em> to me,” he told her. “Because if that's what today was, I should have <em>known</em>. You should have fucking <em>told me.</em> You can’t just <em>use</em> me to cross off your damned bucket list.”</p><p>"I'm not," she whispered. "That's not what I was doing."</p><p>He turned back to face Poppy. Fuck. <em>Fuck. </em>Tears, falling down her face.</p><p>How’d he get so good at taking a perfect day and beating it to a bloody pulp? Holding the perfect woman in his arms and then yelling at her for wanting to spend time with him.</p><p>“I’ll take you home,” he said hoarsely.</p><p>“Don’t,” said Poppy. “I’ll take the bus.”</p><p>“Poppylan…” Tora sighed.</p><p>“Don’t,” she said again, and got out of the car.</p><p>Slowly, he bent his forehead and rested it against the steering wheel.</p><p>
  <em>If you have nothing to begin with, you have nothing to lose.</em>
</p><p>And just like that, in the span of a day, he’d gained the whole world and thrown it away.</p><p>*</p><p>At home, Tora lay on his couch with his hood pulled down over his eyes.</p><p>A sick part of him almost wanted Vincent to call. If there was ever a day for violence, this was it. He felt rudderless, out of control.</p><p>Even though he wasn’t a drinker, if there had been booze in the house when he got home… it would have been gone by now.</p><p>How goddamned far he’d fallen. Since when was someone like <em>him</em> this twisted over a fucking hamster?</p><p>His phone buzzed and he glanced at it.</p><p><em>&gt;I’m sorry, </em>Poppy texted.</p><p>Another buzz.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;I didn’t mean to hurt you. You aren’t disposable. </em>
</p><p>Another buzz.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Can I come over? I want to apologize in person.</em>
</p><p>Christ. He sighed and stared at his phone, then texted back.</p><p>&gt;<em>I’m the one who fucked up. Sorry I got pissed. </em></p><p>There was a long wait, then Poppy texted back.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;I made up my mind, about what I want to be. If I’m still allowed to choose.</em>
</p><p>*</p><p>He opened the door to Poppy, holding a bento box. The lid was off; there was a rice tiger inside.</p><p>He blinked down at it.</p><p>“Peace offering?” she said.</p><p>“Come in,” Tora muttered. He stood to the side and scratched his head as she stepped into his apartment and took off her shoes.</p><p>“Thanks,” Poppy said.</p><p>Then they were both inside and staring at each other.</p><p>“I fuck up a lot,” Tora said, suddenly.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit, again.”</p><p>“Neither did I!” Poppy said. “Tora, I had no idea you felt that way.”</p><p>“What way? That I like you?”</p><p>“No, the… disposable thing. Because you aren’t. And you <em>aren’t</em> a rebound.” she hurriedly put down the food and reached out to grab one of his hands. He looked down at her small hand around his, then slowly pulled out of the grip, wincing a little.</p><p>“Poppy, I’m serious,” he said. “I hate how I said it, but I meant it. You don’t have to apologize if you don’t wanna be with me, but…”</p><p>“Right,” she said.</p><p>“You said you chose,” he reminded her.</p><p>She looked down at her feet.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said at last. “Friends.”</p><p>“Friends?” he echoed.</p><p>“I want to be with you,” she said, looking up at him. “I’ve never felt this way about… but I can’t be in another relationship, not right away. I’m not ready. And I don’t want to stop talking. I like kissing you, but I <em>really</em> like being able to talk to you.”</p><p>“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said.</p><p>“So <em>now</em> can we hang out?” she said. “Please?”</p><p>“Shit,” Tora muttered. “Yeah, whatever. What d’you wanna do?”</p><p>“Um…” she glanced around his apartment. “We could play a video game?”</p><p>“All I have are racing games and shooting shit,” Tora said. “You probably aren’t into that.”</p><p>“I could be into that,” Poppy offered, with a weak smile.</p><p>“Hm.” He picked up the remote to his TV, then looked back at Poppy.</p><p>“You really wanna be my friend that fuckin’ bad?” he asked.</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“Huh.” He couldn’t decide how that made him feel. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Maybe even a warm one.</p><p>He could do friends, right?</p><p>Tora turned on the game console and tossed her a controller. She fumbled and dropped it.</p><p>“You know I’m about to kick your ass, right?” he muttered.</p><p>“Everyone always underestimates me,” Poppy said loftily.</p><p>“Sure they do. Now sit your cute ass on the couch.”</p><p>They were a foot away from each other. His left side felt like it was buzzing with electricity from her nearness. He had to fight an urge to reach out and pull her against him.</p><p>
  <em>Friends. She chose friends.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So pinning her down on the couch and ripping her clothes off? Yeah, off limits.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just play the damn game.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Business Offer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poppy yawned, next to him. Tora glanced at her and then back at the screen. The round had just finished; they were being prompted to start another one.</p><p>“…Guess it’s getting kind of late,” he said, reluctantly, putting the controller down on the couch next to him. There was no sunlight from the windows anymore. They’d been playing for over an hour, mostly silently.</p><p>“Yeah. Long day,” Poppy said.</p><p>He snorted.</p><p>“Yeah. Long day,” Tora agreed.</p><p>“Alright. So… I guess I’ll head out,” Poppy said.</p><p>“I’ll drive,” Tora said quickly. They both stood at the same time.</p><p>“Are you sure? You don’t have to,” Poppy said.</p><p>“I’m sure. C’mon.” He tied back his hair quickly and grabbed his keys.</p><p>In the car, he started the engine and then took a deep breath. He didn’t want to take her right home. Didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts and doubts. Didn't want to be without her. Not just yet.</p><p>“You wanna eat?” he said, peering at her.</p><p>“You know I’m broke.”</p><p>Tora shrugged.</p><p>“Owe you an apology anyways,” he muttered. "So, I’m buying. But s’cool if not.”</p><p>“…sure,” Poppy said. "I could eat."</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>*</p><p>Tuesday morning; he had not seen or spoken to Poppy since dropping her off late Saturday night.</p><p>“Why are you nervous?” Quincey asked from the passenger seat.</p><p>“Not nervous,” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“Oh, please. I know your moods.” Quincy pursed his lips, looking at Tora’s white-knuckled grip of the steering wheel, his tight jaw, his hunched shoulders. “You <em>aren’t</em> exactly hard to read, right now.”</p><p>Tora grunted and made a conscious effort to change his body language.</p><p>“You still haven’t told me how it went,” Quincey added. “The last I saw you were helping my <em>very</em> drunk editor get out of the club without breaking an ankle. So…?”</p><p>“So?” Tora echoed.</p><p>“So, <em>what happened</em>?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Tora muttered. He found an empty spot on the street and jammed his car into it.</p><p>“Are you going to ask her out?”</p><p>“Fucked up,” Tora muttered.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“<em>I fucked it up</em>,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable. “Drop it, Quince.”</p><p>“Oh, no. What happened?”</p><p>Tora said nothing, but got out of the car. He waited for Quincey to do the same, then locked the doors. The blonde man gave him a pained look that Tora ignored.</p><p>“Tora… are you okay? You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“If you say so.”</p><p>“Fuck, stop looking at me like that.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“<em>You know</em>,” said Tora. Together, the two of them walked to the doors of Giant Goldfish. Tora held it open and let Quincey pass him, then trailed behind.</p><p>His stomach turned over on itself. He felt sick. But at the same time—excited? Like he couldn’t wait to see her again. The fuck was that about?</p><p>“Jacob, my man!” Quincey said brightly as they entered the office space.</p><p>“Hey, Quincey!” Jacob said with a grin, spinning around in his office chair to face them.</p><p>“Where are the others?” Quincey asked.</p><p>Tora crossed his arms, trying to look nonchalant. He glanced around the office rather than at Jacob. </p><p>“Conference room. Poppy’s kind of freaked, there was some creep on the bus—”</p><p>Tora uncrossed his arms and strode to the conference room.</p><p>Poppy and Erdene were sitting at the table. The red chair contrasted with Poppy’s polka-dot green shirt. She was sitting hunched over, her hands under her thighs. Their soft conversation broke off as Tora slammed the door open with his palm. Both turned to him, mouths frozen and eyes wide.</p><p>Erdene’s expression immediately soured. Her eyes narrowed. Tora was used to that look: pure ice. Pure judgment.</p><p>“Jacob said…” he started to explain.</p><p>“I’ll give you two some space,” Erdene said. She put a hand on Poppy’s shoulder for a second and then brushed past Tora, who was still in the doorway.</p><p>“You okay?” he asked gruffly.</p><p>Poppy nodded. He took a step forward, letting the glass door swing closed behind him. Tora inhaled sharply, clenching his teeth. He took another step forward, slowly, then pulled out the chair Erdene had been in and sat down. He knew they were 'friends,' but he couldn't say where they stood. Not at this point.</p><p>“I really am fine,” Poppy said.</p><p>“What happened? Someone touch you?”</p><p>“No! Just, uh, showed me something. If you know what I mean.”</p><p>“Christ. You call the cops or something?”</p><p>“No.” Poppy snorted and shook her head, then peered up at him with a lopsided smile that did not reach her eyes. “I learned my lesson.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“When you took that photo of me. Remember? They can’t do anything with just a description. And he got right off the bus after, so…”</p><p>“…right,” Tora muttered. He crossed his arms and his ankles, then leaned back in the chair and blinked up at the ceiling. Having his own actions compared to a flashing perv’s wasn’t exactly a good feeling. “Where were you?”</p><p>“Just a few blocks from here.”</p><p>“South?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“What’d he look like?” He lowered his eyes from the ceiling to Poppy. She didn’t meet his gaze, just shook her head.</p><p>“Seriously, it’s okay. Not a big deal.”</p><p>“Tell me,” he insisted. “I’ll find him.”</p><p>“And do what? No way, Tora. He’s probably just sick or something. That kind of stuff <em>happens</em> sometimes.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t.”</p><p>“Yeah, it shouldn’t, but it does. I’d rather just forget it.”</p><p>She drew her hands back from underneath her beige skirt and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.</p><p>“Look,” Poppy said. “Thanks for checking on me, but I’m okay. I should go say hi to Quincey.”</p><p>“Don’t take the bus anymore,” he said. “I can drive you. When I’m not working.”</p><p>“Geeze, no. That’s too much.”</p><p>“Then get your bike fixed. Or a car or something.”</p><p>“Tora…” She stared at him now, her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth twisted.</p><p>“I’ll loan you cash,” he said flatly.</p><p>“Please, stop,” Poppy said. “I appreciate it, Tora. But I’m trying to make it on my own. That’s a big part of all <em>this</em> for me, you know? About, um, not being <em>ready</em> for anything.”</p><p>“Thought it was all that shit about invisible scars and trusting the wrong person,” he said.</p><p>“You were listening that closely?”</p><p>“Jesus, fuck. Course I was. And people get loans all the time.”</p><p>“Tora,” she said. Her eyes were closed, her voice firm.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>She opened her eyes and gave him a cold, commanding expression that was impossible to ignore.</p><p>“I have to get back to work.”</p><p>*</p><p>He went outside while Quincey met with Poppy. Smoked a cigarette, brooded, thought.</p><p>Went to his trunk, cigarette still dangling out his mouth, and rummaged around. Shoved a wad of cash in his pocket. Finished the cigarette, went back upstairs.</p><p>Sat down and waited for the meeting to end.</p><p>At last took his opportunity, while Quincey was chatting with Jacob and Poppy was microwaving a cup of old coffee.</p><p>“Hey,” he said. She looked over her shoulder. “We’re still friends?”</p><p>“Oh.” Poppy smiled a little and turned all the way around. “Yeah, of course. Sorry. It was a hard morning.”</p><p>“Don’t fuckin’ apologize,” he said. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the money, then held it out to her.</p><p>Poppy’s eyes widened. Her head jerked back.</p><p>“Tora, I <em>said</em>…”</p><p>“You don’t want a handout,” he said. “I’m not giving you one. Got a business offer. A real one.”</p><p>She laughed.</p><p>“What, you need an editor?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“Nah,” he said. “You’ve seen my apartment. Depressing as shit. Paint me something?”</p><p>“That’s way more than my paintings are worth,” she informed him.</p><p>“Don’t crap on yourself.”</p><p>“I’m not, believe me.”</p><p>“Then, shit. Make me two paintings, or whatever. Just take it, okay?”</p><p>"That's not a real offer, Tora. I know what you're doing."</p><p>"S'true I want you safe," he said to her quietly. "But it's also true I like your work, okay? It's not a handout. Please, Poppy."</p><p>Poppy hesitated, then reached out and accepted the money.</p><p>“Now get your damn scooter fixed,” Tora grumbled. He turned and left the office without saying goodbye to anybody. Outside, he leaned on his car and waited for Quincey to join him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Meddling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The porch behind Alice’s was simple and unfurnished, the same wooden platform that had been there since Tora was just a dumbass kid. He dangled his long legs over the edge. One of his big hands held a cup of green tea. The other was in his pocket, his thumb running over the edge of a strawberry hair-tie.</p><p>At last he picked up his phone and looked at the text from Poppy, now a few hours old.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Hey, what did you want me to paint you?</em>
</p><p>A simple question. Should’ve had a simple answer. But it didn’t. He would have been fine with anything. But just saying a few words to her right now felt complicated. Why was he scared to talk to a fucking hamster?</p><p>&gt;<em>Make it like the one that wasn’t anything, </em>he typed, and hit send before he could delete it.</p><p>&gt;<em>What, the one you said was a battlefield?</em> Poppy answered, almost immediately.</p><p>&gt;<em>Yeah, </em>he wrote.</p><p>&gt;<em>You don’t want something specific?</em> Poppy asked. <em>I didn’t take you for an abstract art kind of guy.</em></p><p>He snorted, thumbs hovering over the screen.</p><p>&gt;<em>I like that it can be whatever you want it to be,</em> he said, and put his phone in his pocket. Tora got up and brought the cup of tea, now half-empty and cold, back inside. He put it on the counter and sighed, leaning on his elbows and hanging his head.</p><p><em>Whap.</em> Alice’s fan crashed through the air and smacked him.</p><p>“Hey,” Tora snapped. “What the hell, Alice?”</p><p>“Why are you moping?” she asked. “What’ s wrong with you?”</p><p>He shook his head and covered his face for a moment with a hand.</p><p>“Fuck if I know,” Tora muttered to her.</p><p>“You sick or something?” the old lady asked, leaning on one elbow and giving him a look that was half-glare and half-concern.</p><p>“Look,” Tora said. He lowered his hand until it covered just his frowning mouth. His eyes were focused on the counter, his eyebrows knotted together. “If a <em>girl…”</em></p><p>“Girl trouble?” Alice cackled. “About time. Tell me.”</p><p>“…trying,” Tora grumbled. “Stop interrupting.”</p><p>“Stop taking all day,” Alice retorted, puffing on her vape and staring coolly at him through her thick glasses.</p><p>“If a girl says she likes you but she’s not ready for a relationship, what does that mean?” Tora asked.</p><p>“It means: she likes you but she’s not ready for a relationship,” Alice said. “Not too sharp today, are you?”</p><p>“Yeah, but…”</p><p>“Or she doesn’t want to date you at all. Are we talking about that little lamb you brought by?”</p><p>Tora nodded slowly and laid his palms flat on the counter, staring at his fingers. There was still nail-polish on one hand, though now chipped and cracking off.</p><p>“Good,” Alice said. “You need someone clean to keep your life straight.”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter,” Tora grumbled. “We’re just friends.”</p><p>“Then be a good friend,” Alice said. “Either she comes around or she doesn’t. What’ve you got to lose?”</p><p>“Fuck-all,” said Tora. “Absolutely nothing.”</p><p>“Be a gentleman. Show her a good time. You have it in you.”</p><p>“Not good at that shit,” Tora complained.</p><p>“Stop acting like it’s hard. Now order food or get out. Don’t you have work to do?”</p><p>*</p><p>Tora lounged on the couch at Quincey’s, playing a game and waiting for Quincey to start reading his latest chapter out loud. But although Quincey had a notebook on his knees, the blonde man did not appear focused on his story. He clicked his pen once, twice, then glanced over his bent knees to where Tora sat on the other side of the couch.</p><p>“So, you still like her, right?” Quincey asked.</p><p>“Poppylan?” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>“We’re just friends,” Tora said, not looking back at Quincey.</p><p>“But you <em>are </em>friends? You can be in a room together?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Good. She’ll be here in ten minutes.”</p><p>“The fuck are you playing at?” Tora snapped, sitting up straight and glaring at Quincey.</p><p>“Nothing. I just want to get to know her better.”</p><p>“Christ, fuck you.”</p><p>“What? None of my previous editors were people I could just chat and have a glass of wine with, you know?” Quincey fiddled with his pen again and gave Tora’s expression an assessing look.</p><p>Tora glared at him, tossed the controller on the coffee table, and rummaged in his pocket for a cigarette.</p><p>“You fucking planned this,” he muttered as he lit up.</p><p>“…well, obviously. I <em>did </em>invite her.”</p><p>“Not what I meant,” Tora said.</p><p>“I’m <em>giving </em>you a heads up,” Quincey said dryly. “I sincerely <em>hope</em> you will stay put, but if you want to leave, now’s your chance. Or else you might cross paths in the hallway. Talk about awkward.”</p><p>Tora grunted, but folded his arms and said nothing.</p><p>“Good,” Quincey said. “I ordered food. Help me set the table.” He put his notebook and pen on the coffee table and stood up, his movements graceful.</p><p>“Like fuck,” said Tora. “Do it yourself, <em>Quinceton</em>.”</p><p>“<em>If</em> you help, I’ll tell you what I overheard Poppy say to Erdene about you.”</p><p>“Christ,” Tora said, standing slowly, his movements an angry, jerky contrast to Quincey’s. “Something’s wrong with you, ya know that.”</p><p>“Like you’re one to talk,” said Quincey airily.</p><p>*</p><p>A knock at the door.</p><p>“That’s either Poppy or dinner,” Quincey said, nudging the fork Tora had put down so it sat straighter. “Do you want to get it, or should I?”</p><p>“You never told me what she said,” Tora snapped, glaring at Quincey.</p><p>“Well, there’s no time <em>now</em>,” Quincey said, rolling his eyes. Quincey left the room as Tora muttered a half-dozen curse words under his breath. He threw his head back and drew in a deep breath, then listened to the sound of Quincey opening the door and greeting Poppylan.</p><p> “…anyways, since our last dinner got cut so short, I thought it would be fun,” Quincey was saying, grinning at Poppy. “Unfortunately Cordy couldn’t make it tonight, but that’s no reason we can’t have fun.”</p><p>The two of them entered the dining room, where Tora lounged against a wall, his heart damn near beating out of his chest.</p><p>“Right,” Poppy said, her eyes widening as they lit on Tora. From her expression she had not been expecting to see him.</p><p>Tora crossed his arms, his expression flat.</p><p><em>Be a gentleman. Show her a good time</em>, Alice had said. Alright. Fuck. He uncrossed his arms.</p><p>“You want a glass of wine?” Tora asked Poppy.</p><p>“Just one. I rode here.”</p><p>“Fixed ya bike?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up.</p><p>“Uh-huh,” she said with a smile. “Thanks.”</p><p>“I’ll get the wine,” Quincey said. “Sit, sit.”</p><p>“…How’s the painting?” Tora asked.</p><p>“…Oh,” Poppy looked uncomfortable, her gaze breaking from his. “I started, but… I might start over. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t apologize,” he said. He seemed to be saying that to her a lot, lately. He sat at the table; she took the seat across from him.</p><p>“I just want to make sure they look good,” Poppy said. “Nobody’s ever hired me to paint before.”</p><p>“They’ll look fine,” Tora said with a shrug.</p><p>“You hired Poppy to paint something?” Quincey said, coming out of his kitchen with two glasses of wine. “Did I know you paint?”</p><p>“Only a little,” Poppy said quickly. “Tora’s just being generous.”</p><p>“I doubt that,” Quincey said. “When you’re done with him, you’ll have to do one for me. Tora, give me your lighter.”</p><p>Tora tossed it to Quincey, who caught it one-handed. Quincey lit the branch of candles on the table, then tossed the lighter back. Just then there was another knock at the door.</p><p>“That’ll be dinner,” said Quincey.</p><p>“Need help?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“Not at all,” said Quincey, and ran out of the room.</p><p>The table was not terribly large. He could have reached out and touched her. He didn’t; Tora crossed his arms to keep them occupied. Candlelight made Poppy’s beauty otherworldly, softening features that were already soft. Fuck, her lips. Her eyes. Everything about her.</p><p>“So…” Poppy said, biting her lip. “How’s, um, work?”</p><p>“You don’t want to know about that,” Tora said, staring unabashedly.</p><p>“No, I really don’t,” she said, with an awkward grin.</p><p>He chuckled.</p><p>“Then why’d you ask?”</p><p>“I don’t know! It’s just one of those things you’re supposed to say to people!”</p><p>“Alright. Work’s fine. How’s yours?”</p><p>“Not bad,” Poppy said.</p><p>Tora nodded slowly.</p><p>“So, you… reading anything good?” he said, mentally kicking himself.</p><p>How the hell did you have a normal conversation? What did normal people say to each other? Normally she wasn’t hard to speak to, but lately he felt like he was traversing a minefield. Or like he was going to say something dumb and she was going to laugh at him.</p><p><em>What the hell did Quincey overhear? </em>He thought. <em>Can’t have been bad or he wouldn’t have tried to pull this shit tonight. Right?</em></p><p>Just then Quincey reappeared. His phone was pressed between his ear and his shoulder and he had two large bags of food in his hands. He set the bags on the table and grabbed the phone.</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Quincey said. “I’ll call you right back.”</p><p>He hung up the phone.</p><p>“I’m <em>so sorry</em>,” Quincey said. “That was one of the kids I mentor. I have to go. But you two enjoy, okay?”</p><p>“You’re leaving?” said Poppy in surprise.</p><p>“Quince…” Tora growled, standing up from the table. “You fucking…”</p><p>“Eat up,” Quincey said. “Or the food will get cold. Help yourself to all the wine you want. Or anything else. Ciao.” He left the room before Tora could get another word in.</p><p>Tora set his hands on the table, looking at Poppy. She was blushing and not meeting his gaze, but she was still seated. Slowly he lowered himself back down. He could hear Quincey slipping out of the condo, and the door locking behind him.</p><p>“Christ,” Tora muttered. He should have expected Quincey to meddle again. <em>Shoulda fuckin’ seen that one coming.</em></p><p>“Tora, you didn’t plan this, did you?” she asked.</p><p>“Fuck no. My brain’s not that twisted,” he grumbled. “I wouldn’t trick ya like that.”</p><p>“Okay,” she said. “So… what do we do?”</p><p>“Eat, I guess,” he said. “Unless you’d rather go home.”</p><p>“No,” Poppy said quickly. “Let’s not waste it. What did he get?”</p><p>“No clue,” said Tora. He dragged one of the bags to him. “Smells good, though.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Unique Tastes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am not ready for tonight y'all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thanks for walking me out,” Poppy said, hugging her helmet to her chest. She stood in front of her white scooter.</p><p>Tora jammed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.</p><p>“Text me when ya get home,” he said.</p><p>“What, are you worried I’ll crash?” Poppy said, with a grin. “I’m not <em>that</em> bad.”</p><p>“You know when I first saw ya, you were thrashing around in a pile of bushes?” Tora said.</p><p>“Thanks for the reminder! Wow, I totally forgot about that,” Poppy said brightly. “Your memory is <em>amazing,</em> Tora!”</p><p>“Okay, enough with the act,” he grumbled, grinning a little. “Just be safe.”</p><p>“I will, I will. See you.”</p><p>They hesitated for a moment, both of them leaning an inch forward. It was Tora who finally closed the distance, wrapping her in a hug. Poppy’s arms slipped around his waist, her head cradled for a moment against his chest.</p><p>
  <em>Badump. Badump.</em>
</p><p>She was warm, and smelled like flowers, and felt so soft in his embrace. Why, of all times, was he remembering how she looked naked and sprawled on the bed in front of him? He pulled back quickly, color rising to his cheeks. The last thing he needed was for Poppy to realize he’d gotten a little hard, just from having her pressed up against him.</p><p>“Okay, see you,” Poppy said quickly. She jammed on her helmet, and then she was gone.</p><p>Tora watched her disappear around the corner before he went back upstairs.</p><p><em>Done</em>, he texted Quincey. Tora tossed the empty food containers in the trash and the others in the fridge. He rinsed the dishes and put them in the sink.</p><p>The wineglasses were still on the table. Poppy’s was empty; the one Tora had <em>thought</em> was for Quincy was nearly full. He’d taken a few sips from it, but apart from disliking the taste, he couldn’t afford to lose control around Poppy.</p><p>If he was anything but clear headed, he was pretty sure he’d…</p><p>Well. He carried the glasses into the kitchen and poured the wine out slowly, watching the crimson fluid swirl around the drain.</p><p>The front door opened.</p><p>“Tora, honey? Have fun?” Quincey called.</p><p>Tora grunted, and set down the empty glass. Quincey came to the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe.</p><p>“So? How was your <em>date</em>?” Quincey asked with a grin.</p><p>“It wasn’t a fuckin’ date, you dick,” said Tora. “It was a fuckin’ set up. Now tell me what the hell she said.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“…You <em>said,</em> if I set the table you’d tell me what you heard Poppy say to Erdene.” Tora folded his arms, eyes narrowed at Quincey.</p><p>“Oo-oh, that,” Quincey said, nodding slowly, his own eyes wide. “Well, <em>about </em>that. I didn’t hear anything.”</p><p>There was a moment of silence. A drop of water beading at the end of one of the rinsed plates fell, smacking against the metal bottom of the kitchen sink.</p><p>“…what?” Tora said, slowly.</p><p>“I didn’t hear anything.”</p><p>“Quince, you fucking said…”</p><p>“I <em>said</em> I’d tell you what I heard. What I heard was: nothing.” Quincey inched backward, away from the doorframe.</p><p>“Oh, <em>you fucking…</em>” Tora lunged.</p><p>“No! Don’t! Monster! <em>Help</em>!”</p><p>*</p><p>&gt;<em>Home safe! Not the night I expected lol. But I had fun. Thanks for the company</em> 😊</p><p>Tora stared at Poppy’s text, cigarette dangling out of his mouth. At last he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and put his car back in drive.</p><p>He’d just gotten home. But he wasn’t ready to go inside. Instead, he took to the highways around Narin City, cruising at a dangerous speed and letting his mind wander.</p><p>Poppy needed time to sort her life out. Time to be alone. Time to heal and figure out what she wanted. The last thing she needed was a trained killer breathing down her fucking neck, fantasizing about her and trying to worm his way deeper into her life.</p><p>Tora had never known he was such a needy mofo until now.</p><p>He resolved, reluctantly, to give her space. The idea made his chest tighten uncomfortably; made it hard to smile. If she wanted him around, he’d be there. If she wanted to talk, he’d answer. But he wasn’t going to chase after her, or start conversations, or follow Quincey inside Giant Goldfish.</p><p>She deserved space. He would give it to her.</p><p>Or, at least: he'd try.</p><p>*</p><p>…so it was Poppy who broke the silence, texting him that Saturday to ask if he was busy.</p><p><em>&gt;No, what's up? </em>Tora asked.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Want to hang out? I finished a painting. Thought maybe I could kick your butt again in that racing game.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Bobby, you fucking lost.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;It’s rude to contradict someone, Tora. </em>
</p><p>He snorted.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Want a ride? Gotta run an errand anyway.</em>
</p><p>A few minutes passed before Poppy answered.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Sure. Idk if it’ll fit on the scooter anyways.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;1 hr?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Perfect, See you then.</em>
</p><p>He shoved his dirty clothes in the closet and emptied out his cigarette ash tray. Tora tossed an empty can of juice in the trash too, and then wiped down his bathroom sink. Did a quick scour for any guns lying out, and hid them. Good enough? Good enough.</p><p>He swung into a game store and frowned as he ran his eyes over the options. Even if she was okay playing the shit he already had, he knew it wasn't her style. He wanted something Poppy would like, that wouldn’t look like he’d bought it just for her. Guns. Sports. A fucking mafia game; he couldn’t help but pull that off the shelf, smirking at how dumb it looked.</p><p>Fuck it. Nothing matched what he was going for.</p><p>He eyed a racing game that had more cheerful colors and animals on the cover than any shirt he’d ever seen Poppy wear. What was it, a game for toddlers?</p><p>So what if it looked like he’d bought it for her? Friends could do nice shit for each other, couldn’t they? What was the big deal? He argued internally with himself while he threw the brightly-colored box on the counter.</p><p>The teenager working the register blanched and rang him up quickly, studiously avoiding eye contact with the angry-looking, long-haired, tattooed hulk glaring at him.</p><p>They sold snacks at the counter. Tora snorted to himself, grabbed a big bag of chips, and lobbed them towards the teenager.</p><p>“That too,” he growled.</p><p>*</p><p>Tora parked on the street. His phone buzzed.</p><p>&gt;<em>Hey bro.</em></p><p>He looked up. Gyu waved to him from the guard house. Tora nodded, then looked back at Poppy’s building.</p><p>She emerged after a moment, running towards his car with a large piece of art paper fluttering under her arm.</p><p>Jesus fucking christ, why the hell did she have to wear such a low-cut v-neck shirt? He groaned to himself. Not like it was her responsibility to make him behave, but was she <em>trying</em> to make him drool all over her?</p><p>She reached the car and opened the door, holding the paper up so he could see it.</p><p>“You like it?” Poppy asked. “I did watercolor instead of painting on canvas because I thought you’d have trouble hanging it up otherwise. You know, since your walls are all concrete-y.”</p><p>Pinker than he’d expected, but somehow not girly. There were a lot of skin tones, actually.</p><p>Not that it looked like anything, but if he had to guess he probably would have thought it was something sexual.</p><p>“…uh-huh,” Tora said, blinking at the canvas. It <em>wasn’t</em>, though, right? It was just a bunch of colors and lines. Not…</p><p>“Are you sure?” Poppy’s voice was nervous. She drew the painting back towards her, away from the open car door. “Um, I could make you a new one.”</p><p>“…don’t,” Tora said, and cleared his throat. “It’s good. Just put it in the back and get in.”</p><p>He carried it up to his place when they arrived and tossed the game and the chips on the couch.</p><p>“Can I just duct-tape it up or something?”</p><p>“Uh-huh, I think so,” said Poppy. “Do you have tape?”</p><p>Poppy followed him and he almost opened the closet with her behind him.</p><p>“Chill,” he grumbled. “Go sit.”</p><p>“…okay,” she said, blinking. He watched her retreat, then opened the door. He grabbed the roll of tape quickly, then shut the closet before Poppy could get up again and catch sight of any of his weaponry.</p><p>“Whadda ya think? Here?” he asked, jabbing above the TV.</p><p>“What about over the couch?”</p><p>“Nah. Can’t see it if it’s over the couch.”</p><p>“Yeah, but it’ll make the room brighter.”</p><p>“What if I wanna look at it <em>while</em> I’m on the couch?” Tora said. “I’m putting it over the TV.”</p><p>“Why’d you ask if you already made up your mind?” Poppy muttered.</p><p>She helped make loops of duct-tape on the back of the piece, showing Tora that if he laid them side-to-side rather than up-and-down, gravity wouldn’t pull the paper off the wall so easily.</p><p>“Is it centered?” he asked, holding it up in front of the wall without pressing it back all the way.</p><p>“It’s upside down,” Poppy said.</p><p>“I like it this way.”</p><p>“But it’s upside down.”</p><p>“It’s my painting, I bought it.”</p><p>“But I’m the artist, and I’m telling you, it’s upside down.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I can do what I want with my shit.”</p><p>“What, so you want an upside-down painting in your apartment?”</p><p>“Yeah, so what, I got unique tastes.”</p><p>“You can say that again.”</p><p>He pushed the large heavy-toothed paper back against the wall, smoothing it out and pressing the duct tape flat on the concrete. He pulled his hands away slowly; it held.</p><p>Tora backed up and sat on the couch. Poppy sat next to him.</p><p>“Looks good,” he grunted.</p><p>Poppy picked up the game on the couch, her eyebrows raised.</p><p>“You bought this? Really?”</p><p>“Yeah, well.” Tora blushed and scratched his head, then shrugged. “Thought it might be more your speed than drag racing and sports cars.”</p><p>“You’re such a cutie,” Poppy said. “Okay, let’s play.”</p><p>
  <em>Badump.</em>
</p><p>He got up quickly and grabbed the controllers, trying to stop the wild crashing of his heart.</p><p>
  <em>Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.</em>
</p><p>The first match was a draw, barely. He was pretty sure she’d just gotten lucky.</p><p>“Let’s gamble,” Poppy said as he mashed the button to return to the track selection.</p><p>“Why, whatcha want?” Tora asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Holy fuck, her shirt was revealing. He wanted nothing more than to grab hold of her body and bury his face in her chest.</p><p>She stretched, and Tora turned away with his cheeks burning. </p><p>“If I win, you have to buy me a drink. Somewhere fun,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Deal.: He cleared his throat and stared resolutely at the screen. "If I win… cook me dinner again.”</p><p>The second match started. Poppy won. Tora blinked at the screen.  </p><p>“Rematch,” he growled.</p><p>“Are we gambling again?” Poppy ate one of the chips, looking at him wide-eyed, not gloating at all.</p><p>“What do you want?” he asked.</p><p>“If I win, <em>you </em>have to make <em>me</em> dinner,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Trust me. You don’t fuckin’ want that.”</p><p>“I’ll take my chances,” Poppy laughed. “What do you want?”</p><p>“If I win…” he stared at the painting and gripped his controller tightly. <em>Badump. Badump. Badump. </em>“If I win... I want to kiss you again.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 3... 2... 1... go!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Am I sorry? Why, no. No, I'm not.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“If I win, I want to kiss you again.”</em>
</p><p>Poppy froze, her face reddening.</p><p>“What?” she squeaked.</p><p>Tora bit back a sigh, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.</p><p> “Never mind,” he grumbled, feeling embarrassed he’d said it at all. It was true, though. He did want to kiss her again. Boundaries be damned, boundaries be fucked.</p><p>It wasn’t like being just friends would stop it from hurting, if or when she did start seeing someone else.</p><p>“Tora…” she blinked and swallowed, then peered at him.</p><p>“Said never mind.” He frowned at his controller.</p><p>“C’mon, don’t be like that. Did you change your mind about the friends thing?”</p><p>She put her hand lightly on his shoulder.</p><p>He looked down at her. His hands were itching; he wanted to grab her, pull her against him.</p><p>Tora felt a stupid, overwhelming need to tell her how he felt. Even though she already knew. Even though she wasn’t ready, or maybe wasn’t interested.</p><p>Slowly Poppy’s hand lowered from his shoulder, reaching for his lap.</p><p>
  <em>Motherfucking holy shit, tell me this goddamned hamster isn’t about to grab my cock right now?</em>
</p><p>He just about had a heart attack, and his eyes widened considerably, but he didn’t exactly move to stop her. He wasn’t exactly about to protest the idea.</p><p>But Poppy was <em>not</em>, in fact, reaching for the half-hard bulge in his jeans.</p><p>She was reaching for the <em>start</em> button on his controller. Her finger pushed it and retreated, and Tora reminded himself to breath. The screen started counting down to the next match.</p><p>
  <em>3… 2… 1. GO!</em>
</p><p>*</p><p>The match ended. Tora put down the controller.</p><p>He hesitated. Poppy was looking at him, her face oddly serious.</p><p>“You really okay with this?” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“I never had a problem with it,” Poppy said. “Are you sure <em>you’re</em> okay with it?”</p><p>He nodded, and turned towards her, leaning in. Tora’s hand found its way to Poppy’s face.</p><p>Then his lips were on her, their mouths slowly moving together. He started to pull back and found that he couldn’t. Whatever shred of self-control he normally possessed was gone.</p><p>Poppy tasted like heaven. Her lips were soft, and her body was warm and inviting.</p><p>He deepened the kiss, his lips harder on her, and moved his hand lower. It followed the curve of her shoulder, down to her lower back. Poppy’s own hands moved up around his neck. Their open mouths moved together.</p><p>He could feel himself hardening, his dick pushing against his jeans. Wanting her. </p><p>Poppy pulled him down by the neck until he was lying on top of her on the couch, between her legs.</p><p>The game was still replaying their last race, its upbeat pop-synth soundtrack blaring. Tires screeching. A fake audience cheering.</p><p>Tora at last tore his lips away, panting, his face an inch from Poppy’s. Her breath was audible too, shallow and fast.</p><p>“Poppy,” he said, his deep voice ragged. “You… still okay with it? Being involved, without being anything?”</p><p>Her hands tangled into his long hair, her fingers sliding along his scalp.</p><p>“Yeah,” she breathed. “But can I be honest with you, Tora?” one of her hands drew down, tracing his thick neck and then pressing gently against his chest. Two fingers rested on the edge of an exposed tattooed flower.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>He rested on his elbows, a hand on either side of Poppy’s face.</p><p>“I didn’t see it as not <em>being</em> anything,” she said softly.</p><p>“You said…”</p><p>“I’m not ready for labels, or commitments, but it’s not like you’re just some guy to me.”</p><p>“Okay,” he murmured. “If you still wanna, let’s try. Being casual.”</p><p>He leaned in to kiss her again, but her hand on his chest firmly maintained the distance between them.</p><p>“No, Tora,” Poppy said.</p><p>He pushed himself up slowly, moving his hand to the top of the couch instead of resting by her face. He was still between her legs, but their faces were feet apart now, not inches.</p><p>So she didn’t even want that from him anymore?</p><p>“You seemed really upset last time,” Poppy explained, still on her back and looking up at him. Her hand had followed his chest, and now her arm was extended, her fingers grazing against him. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to maintain the distance, or if she didn’t want to stop touching him.</p><p>“I’m not gonna yell at you again,” he said. “Fucking… ever, Poppy.”</p><p>“It’s not that. Although, I mean, yeah, please don’t. But it’s… I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>“Christ. How fuckin’ soft do you think I am?” he grumbled.</p><p>“Look, Tora, I want to be with you. I <em>do</em>. But I can’t make promises about the future. I don't want to lead you on.”</p><p>“You’re not. I get it. And I know what I’m doing. If you want this, so do I.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” she whispered. “I mean, what if you regret it after?”</p><p>“I won’t.”</p><p>He was sure he wouldn’t.</p><p>He couldn’t regret spending time with her. Couldn’t regret being inside her, being with her. There was every chance getting involved with Poppy was going to end with his shriveled-up heart being impaled on a stake, but he wasn’t going to <em>regret </em>it.</p><p>He’d thought it was the smart thing to do, drawing that line. Now, with Poppy under him, it seemed so stupid.</p><p>It wasn’t like being ‘just friends’ was working. It wasn’t like it was stopping him from thinking about her, caring about her, lusting after her. So what the fuck was the point in keeping his distance, in drawing boundaries? He was being an idiot. From now on, he was going to take whatever the hell she was willing to give him, and keep his fucking mouth shut.</p><p>“But what if you…”</p><p>“Let me worry about my own shit, Poppy,” he said. “I’m not expecting anything from you anymore. Ya don’t owe me anything.”</p><p>“Are you <em>sure?”</em> she asked, her tone serious.</p><p>“Do you want this? Do you wanna fuck me?” he asked, dodging the question.</p><p>“…yeah,” she breathed.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>He leaned back down over her, and Poppy’s hand softened to let him. Their lips met.</p><p>This time Tora’s kisses were harder, firmer, more insistent. Like he could drown out both of their doubts. He kept himself up on one elbow, the other roaming over her body.</p><p>Poppy’s hands were exploring him, too.</p><p>And then his doubts were gone because there was no room for anything other than Poppy. The way she felt, tasted, smelled. What she <em>meant</em> to him. </p><p>Her hands ran down his body and then slipped under his shirt, teasing up across his muscular chest. Tora straightened and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side.</p><p>Her hands were around his waist now. He bowed down over her and kissed the low spot of her v-neck shirt, squeezing one of her tits with his other hand. Poppy’s gasping breath transformed, for a moment, into a low moan. A responding ache of desire throbbed through Tora. He pressed his bulge against her crotch and pulled her upright to take off her shirt.</p><p>Her bra, too. And then he bore her back down to the couch.</p><p>His lips closed around one of her nipples. Poppy’s hands tangled into his hair, then slid to his broad shoulders. He tugged at the firm bud between his lips, then trailed his lips up to find her mouth again.</p><p>God, he needed her. Couldn’t fucking think straight. Couldn’t make sense of anything but her body.</p><p>He slid his fingers under the waistband of her pants. She mimicked him, her fingers pulling at the top of his jeans.</p><p>He unbuttoned her pants and dragged them down. Poppy lifted her hips so that he could.</p><p>“Yours too,” she breathed.</p><p>He needed no urging. Tora stood and yanked his pants off, his breath hard and fast, his golden eyes fixed on Poppy’s curvaceous body, her tangle of hair, her wide eyes narrowed now in lust, her soft lips parted around her heavy breathing.</p><p>He grabbed her and lifted her up, lowering himself onto the couch and pulling Poppy down on top of him.  His hand slid to the back of her head as his lips found hers again.</p><p>Their kisses now were long, and deep. Both breathed through their noses, not parting for air as they drank each other in.</p><p>His other hand moved to her waist, then down to her ass. He squeezed, grinding Poppy against him. She was so short that her crotch rested not on his, but higher, on his torso. But it still felt good to have her body pressed hard against his, and the pressure from one of her thighs was still tight against his aching, rigid shaft.</p><p>His hand moved lower, lower. He wrapped his grip around the back of her knee and pulled forward, so she was straddling him instead of just lying on top of him. The couch was narrow enough that she could only wrap her outer leg around him; the other was already crushed against the back of the couch.</p><p>He ran his hand up from her knee back to her panties, then teased his fingers around to slide in between their bodies.</p><p>Poppy lifted her mouth away from him. She pushed herself up a few inches, her hands splayed on his hard chest.</p><p>Tora slid his hand under her panties.</p><p>“Do you have a condom?” Poppy breathed.</p><p>“Yeah.” He pressed a finger inside her opening. Her lips were swollen with arousal; the inside of her pussy was already wet with wanting him.</p><p>“Ah—” Poppy’s eyes flickered closed, and her hips rocked forward on his hand. Tora exhaled hard. “Wanna… get it?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tora said. “Not yet.” He plunged his finger deeper, then pulled it out. Deeper. Poppy’s splayed fingers clenched into fists on his chest. She panted, her eyes flickering shut.</p><p>Faster. His finger slicked in and out of her. She moaned and collapsed lower, her face falling on top of his. Their lips met again.</p><p>Tora kissed her; she kissed back, but less purposefully than before. Now her lips formed the shapes of soft moans against his mouth. He answered in kind, sliding his wet fingers out of her opening and moving upward to explore the nub of her clit. Poppy ground down against him.</p><p>“Tora,” she moaned.</p><p>He left her clit and drove his fingers back inside her warmth, her tight walls pressing against him.</p><p>“Yeah?” he breathed. He curled his fingers inside her, stroking the inside of her body. His mind buzzed with his own arousal. </p><p>“Please,” Poppy said, her angelic voice transformed into a whimper.</p><p>“What?” Tora asked.</p><p>“The condom,” Poppy said.</p><p>"Not yet," he whispered. "I want to watch you cum."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Too Intimate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy y'all, and thanks for your patience with my periodic updates!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora kept his eyes glued to Poppy’s face as his fingers slicked steadily in and out of her. He watched her parted lips curl back. An expression almost of pain, but he knew better.</p><p>Her eyes squeezed shut. Her head bowed down. A desperate moan escaped her lips as she ground her hips against his big hand, searching for more satisfaction than his fingers could give.</p><p>For every sound of pleasure that she made, Tora felt an answering ache deep in him.</p><p>Poppy kept one hand on Tora’s chest to prop herself up. The other hand reached down between them, tugging at his boxers until she freed his cock. He felt a rush of excitement and anticipation. Tora’s breath quickened.</p><p>Poppy grabbed his shaft in one hand, her fingers closing around the tip of his member. He surged up against her gentle grip, pushing his cock hungrily through her fingers.</p><p>For a moment his own fingers faltered inside her, his rhythm breaking as the sensation of Poppy’s grasp overwhelmed him. Tora groaned and started to thrust his hand against her again.</p><p>He paused with two fingers buried in her, rubbing his thumb against the nub of her clit. They were both breathing hard now. Poppy’s eyes were shut against the cresting waves of pleasure she felt. Tora kept his open, unable to look away.</p><p>Her beautiful face, lips parted in exquisite pleasure. Her heavy tits, hanging down and tempting him; brushing against his chest whenever she leaned further forward. Her wet, tight pussy squeezing against his fingers.</p><p>His heart thumped; his cock throbbed.</p><p>Her legs shook, her body collapsing back down on him. She let go of his cock, though her hand still rested against it. The hand she’d been propped up on changed to a forearm, her face hovering over his and her hair obscuring his vision. Her breasts crushed against his muscular chest.</p><p>The hand he’d kept on her knee, the knee that was now trembling against him as he played with her clit—he pulled that hand away from her leg to grapple with her hair. Tora swept it back, tucking it behind Poppy’s ears. She gasped and moaned again, her cheeks bright red. Her body stiffened as his thumb stumbled on a spot she liked, pressing against the right side of her clit. He kept at it, working her as she cried out and trembled. Then she jerked back, tensed, collapsed flat against him.</p><p>Poppy panted, and stretched her legs out. Her hand was still resting by his cock, but not gripping it; her collapsed body pinned both his arm and hers in place.</p><p>“You cum?” Tora asked, his fingers still jammed inside her, the other hand tracing up her back.</p><p>Poppy nodded, silent.</p><p>“Can I still fuck you?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” she murmured, pushing herself slowly up again. He eased out from under her. Tora pulled his boxers back up over his big cock, pausing for a moment to grab at himself as a rush of need overwhelmed him.</p><p>He let go of his dick as he stumbled to the bedroom for a condom. Tora paused just past doorframe, out of Poppy’s view. He leaned against the wall and stared for a moment up at the ceiling, then reached a hand for his chest and pressed it against his heart.</p><p><em>Don’t fucking do this</em>, he told himself coldly. <em>This warmth you feel, fucker? That’s death for a guy like ya. And Poppy doesn’t want it. So if you don’t wanna fuck this up, get your goddamned act together. It’s just sex. You’re just fucking her. That’s all.</em></p><p>“Christ.”</p><p>He shut his eyes and pressed his hand against them for a moment, then strode to the night table for a condom.</p><p>Quincey was the one who’d insisted he get a bed and a night table. He never fucking used either for anything but storage.</p><p>He grabbed a condom and returned to the living room.</p><p>Poppy was lying on her back on the couch, her legs up over the armrest. She still wore her panties, though they were perhaps a little stretched from having his hand underneath them. Her gaze was locked blankly on the ceiling; she didn’t look at him for more than a split second as he approached.</p><p>Tora crouched on the floor beside the couch, so their heads were level.</p><p>“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”</p><p>“Hm? Yeah,” Poppy said, turning towards him with a soft smile on her lips.</p><p>“Seem zoned out,” he said. “You sure?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she said, with more conviction this time. “I feel <em>really </em>good. Like I’m high or something.”</p><p>“Yeah?” he said, smirking. “Whadda ya know about being high, Bobby?”</p><p>“It’s just a saying,” she said. “I don’t know, and I don’t <em>want</em> to know.”</p><p>“Good,” he said. He reached out and ran a hand across her stomach, then up to cup one of her breasts. Tora leaned over her and pressed his mouth to hers.</p><p>She wrapped her arms slowly around his neck and clung to him. Her lips moved against his, soft and encouraging. Her body was supple against his, responding to his every touch. Tora rose up and clambered on top of her. He dragged her up the couch so they could use the whole length. </p><p>He rose to his knees and pulled her panties off of her. He pushed his boxers down and kicked them off. Tora ripped open the condom. Poppy watched as he pinched the tip and unrolled the tight covering down his thick member.</p><p>He knelt over her, one arm on the back of the couch and one gripping the edge of the seat cushion, just to her side. His own dark hair spilled down around his face, loose strands creating a dark tunnel that led to Poppy. She ran her fingers up the side of his face, brushing and gathering back the bits of his hair not already contained by his hair-tie.</p><p>She pulled him down, and Tora found his lips crushing against hers, his breath hot and insistent against the gentle sweetness of her embrace.</p><p>How was she so overwhelming? Always, in every moment?</p><p>If he dug his cock inside her like this, their faces pressed together, her hands buried in his hair…</p><p>So much for <em>just fucking</em>. So much for keeping feelings out of it. That was way too intimate for him right now.</p><p>He pushed himself up away from her, gripped her waist, and tried to turn her over.</p><p>“What?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“I wanna fuck you from behind,” he said. “That okay?”</p><p>“…yeah,” Poppy said.</p><p>She rolled over the rest of the way, so her stomach pressed against the couch. Her arms and head rested on the armrest.</p><p>He lifted her hips and found her drenched opening. He teased her for a moment with his fingers. Teased himself, too; god, she felt good.</p><p>Then he rubbed his dick across her wet, swollen opening, and pushed himself inside of her.</p><p>Poppy moaned as he slid in. Tora bowed his head and exhaled slowly. With every inch he buried himself, his pleasure built, until he was ground as hard into her as he could. He hitched her hips up with one arm, deepening the angle slightly. Poppy moaned again, and Tora threw his head back and answered her with a low groan.</p><p>“Damnit, Poppylan,” he muttered hoarsely. “You feel like fuckin’ heaven.”</p><p>Tora grunted, and pumped himself in and out of her. She wriggled her hips back up against him as he slammed against her, his crotch ramming against her plump ass as he rode her.</p><p>He groaned again and lay down over her, his cock still pumping, but more gently now. He planted his hands on either side of her face, and lowered his head by hers. Poppy craned her neck around to peer at him. Their eyes met for a moment. Tora brushed his lips against her forehead, then pushed himself back up and dug his shaft back inside her.</p><p>“Can I turn over?” Poppy said. “I wanna look at you.”</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. </em>
</p><p>“I… okay,” Tora mumbled. Reluctantly he dragged his cock out of her warmth. Once he was free of her body Poppy turned onto her back, her legs wide around him. Her breasts rested against her chest; her lips parted and eyes set on him. Her whole body welcoming him in.</p><p>
  <em>Jesus, fuck.</em>
</p><p>He’d never been with someone he was so attracted to, not just physically but in every way. Never <em>wanted </em>someone like her, like this. He felt so startled, so overwhelmed, that for a moment he pulled back and ended up sitting on his ass on the couch.</p><p>Poppy pushed herself upright.</p><p>“Tora?” she said. “You okay?”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he said. He reached and grabbed her, pulling her forward onto his lap. Poppy kneeled above his lap with her legs straddling him.</p><p>Tora guided his cock, pointing it to her opening. Poppy put her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself. She took him inside her, sliding down his full length until at last she rested on his lap, gasping, his manhood deep inside her.</p><p>He pulled her against him in a hug. One of Tora’s hands was snug against her back; the other against her head.</p><p>He rocked his hips up off the couch and Poppy moaned. He bowed his head against the side of hers and closed his eyes.</p><p>She pushed herself back, out of his embrace, with another moan. Poppy gripped him by the shoulders and tried to bounce up and down on him. He guided the motion with his hands on her hips.</p><p>He couldn’t help but admire the way it made her chest bounce, or the flickering pleasure in her heavy-lidded eyes. Not to mention the thrum of bliss his rod felt with every bob and tilt of her body.</p><p>He lifted her up and held her there, pumping his hips up to drive his dick rapidly into her. Poppy cried out, throwing her head back as he impaled her repeatedly. Tora gritted his teeth against his own cries of pleasure, but the feeling wracked through his body, almost overwhelming him.</p><p>
  <em>Not yet. Fuck, not yet. I need this to last. </em>
</p><p>He pulled her back down on top of him, and let her return to her awkward bouncing rhythm. Still good, but not overwhelming like his punishing pace.</p><p>Tora lifted one of her breasts and leaned into wrap his lips around the nipple, sucking at her. Poppy wrapped her hands into his hair.</p><p>“Tora,” she moaned. “Faster, please.”</p><p>With a groan, he flipped her down so he was on top of her, her back lengthwise on the couch again. He drove into her, and a wave of pleasure slammed through him.</p><p>Need overwhelmed Tora, and he lost his last shred of self-control. Tora slammed his thick, fat member into her wetness. Rammed his body against hers repeatedly. Every thrust inside Poppy’s short, curvy body brought him closer to the cliff he was avoiding.</p><p>He pounded her with his cock. Then Tora cried out and thrust inside her one last time, his vision darkening. Over the edge of the cliff he fell, tumbling into nothingness as bliss wracked his muscular body. He stayed buried in her, his teeth clenched and his jaw tight, as his cum pumped out of him and his mind fell away from himself.</p><p>He came back to seconds later, his body crushing down against Poppylan’s. Her fingers traced up and down his back and stroked his head. Her breathing was long, deep, slow. Tora stared off the edge of the couch, his vision fixing first on the TV (cartoon, brightly colored cars still careening endlessly around the track), then up to the artwork she had made.</p><p>He must have been crushing her. He slowly pulled his cock out of her body, then turned them both on their sides. The couch didn’t provide a lot of room. He’d put Poppy on the outside; he held her tightly against him so she wouldn’t fall.</p><p>They were both silent, just slowly breathing. The fucking game music kept playing on a loop. Tora eased himself up and reached over her for the remote. He shut the TV off, then lay back down.</p><p>Poppy’s head was against his chest, his arm around her body. The room was perfectly silent now apart from their breathing.</p><p>So this was peace; so this was satisfaction.</p><p>Poppy stirred, stretching her short legs as long as she could. Tora peered down at her.</p><p>“You good?” he murmured.</p><p>“Very,” she said. “You?”</p><p>“M-hm,” he said.</p><p>They couldn’t lay like this, tangled around each other on his couch, for much longer. They were done fucking; he needed to get some clothes back on this gorgeous woman. Hard enough to keep his head straight as it was.</p><p>Tora sat up again slowly. He didn’t want to let go of her, but he knew he needed to.</p><p>“How about that drink?” he said.</p><p>“Drink?”</p><p>“You beat me, first round. I owe you a drink. C’mon.” With that, he pushed himself up off the couch and turned away from her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Dive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry to say there will probably be a similar-or-longer delay before the next chapter, as I have an exam tomorrow and then a very short couple of days to write a massive paper that I had all semester to work on (did I procrastinate? What?? No, I would neeevverrrr!) but it'll be up by the end of the weekend at the latest.</p><p>Smut &gt; grad school.</p><p>Priorities, man!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Tora pulled his clothes on before turning around. Poppy had her pants on and was slowly turning her shirt inside out.</p><p>“Where you wanna go?” he asked. He lifted a hand to his hair. He could <em>feel</em> it was a fucking mess, tangled and falling in front of his face. Most of his usual half-bun had escaped in the desperate, tender love-making of moments before.</p><p>He pulled out his hair tie and wrenched his hair back out of his face, tying it up again.</p><p>Poppy shrugged. He watched her pull her V-neck shirt over her cotton bra, tugging at the hem to get it over her chest.</p><p>He gulped. He wasn’t ready to go again, but fucking hell. <em>Poppylan</em>. He folded his arms and made a point of looking anywhere but her chest.</p><p>“I’m a little tired,” Poppy said. “So…”</p><p>“So, what. You don’t wanna go right now?” Tora asked, his voice a little moodier than he intended. He felt a bitter sting of disappointment in his stomach.</p><p>Did she really want to go right home after they’d just done <em>that</em>?</p><p>“No, I do!” Poppy said, her face earnest as she looked up at him. “Just, maybe we could go somewhere… quiet? And relaxed?”</p><p>“Sure thing,” Tora said, feeling his chest relax.</p><p>*</p><p>Maybe a gentleman would hold the door and let the woman go in before him, but Tora was a bodyguard. Things were different in his world.</p><p>He stepped in before Poppy could, sweeping the bar with a level gaze before nodding and stepping aside.</p><p>He’d thought about taking her to one of Quincey’s spots. That would have been his go-to, to impress Poppy. But she’d said <em>quiet and relaxed</em>, and he wasn’t sure if the Princess’ usual spots fit that description.</p><p>So he’d taken Poppy to one of <em>his</em> spots, and he hoped he hadn’t made the wrong call.</p><p>She hovered in the door, drinking it in. The bar was dimly lit, as much to hide stains as for atmosphere. The walls were covered in stickers and ripped band posters. There were a couple punks in the corner, but it wasn’t a place where trouble happened. Just an outdated, grungy dive bar with decent food. The kind of place old timers went to kick back and reminisce. Neutral territory, as it were. </p><p>His own eyes, skimming the surroundings, lit on a small nudie picture stapled to the wall behind the bar counter.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. So maybe he hadn’t thought this through. No way in hell was this fucking dump the type of place he should have brought Poppy.</p><p>“Uh, you know what?” Tora said, scratching his neck. “There’s another place a few blocks down that might be more your scene. It’s, um, nice place. Spanish food. Those little fuckin’ dishes?”</p><p>“Tapas?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“Yeah, that shit. C'mon.”</p><p>“This is fine,” Poppy said with a good-humored smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.</p><p>“Are you sure?” he asked.</p><p>They were still hovering in the doorway.</p><p>“Yeah. It’s kind of cute, in a way. Like a real city place, you know? It’s got character. You can tell a lot has happened here.”</p><p>“Sure,” said Tora, fighting the instinct to roll his eyes. “But shit, I dunno if they do cocktails.”</p><p>“Beer is fine,” Poppy said.</p><p>“If you say so,” Tora grumbled. He led her to the long, chipped wooden bar. They each took a stool. Tora put his elbows on the counter and smiled a little to himself.</p><p>How many damned memories <em>did </em>this place have? Never would have thought he would bring someone here. Not someone like Poppy.</p><p>Half the fucking guys he used to come here with were 6 feet underground. Or deeper, under water. Point was: fucking dead. The smile left Tora’s face.</p><p>The heavily-pierced bartender ambled over, his face glued to his phone. He put the device in his pocket and raised his eyebrows by way of greeting.</p><p>Tora opened his mouth to order, but Poppy beat him to it.</p><p>“Can I have a pint of that?” she asked, pointing to one of the taps.</p><p>The guy looked at Tora.</p><p>“Water and a menu,” Tora growled.</p><p>Tora rolled his neck and glanced at Poppy. She was inspecting the posters with curiosity.</p><p>“Do you come here a lot?” she asked.</p><p>He shrugged.</p><p>“When I was younger. Used to hang out here a bit.”</p><p>The bartender slid Poppy a glass of golden-colored, frothy ale.</p><p>“Thanks," Poppy said. She turned back to Tora and giggled, covering her mouth. "You always say that like you’re some kind of old man."</p><p>“Yeah, well, compared to you, <em>shorty</em>…”</p><p>“I’ll have you know, I’m twenty-one years old, which is a very respectable age…”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Tora said with a lopsided smirk. “Sure is.”</p><p>The bartender returned with Tora’s water and menu, then vanished into the back.</p><p>Tora picked up the menu with a sigh.</p><p>“Ya hungry?” he asked, eyes skimming over the options. “My treat. I thought I was gonna buy you some fancy fuckin’ drink, not… that.”</p><p>“I could eat,” Poppy said with a shrug. “But I’ll split it with you, okay? I still have some cash left over from getting the scooter fixed.”</p><p>“Nah,” said Tora.</p><p>“Uh-huh,” said Poppy obstinately.</p><p>He snorted and flipped the laminated menu over, then felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Tora reached for it absentmindedly. With the menu in one hand and his phone in the other, he glanced at the screen.</p><p>
  <em>Activity Detected.</em>
</p><p>What the fuck.</p><p>He stared at the notification for a long moment, and slowly set down the menu.</p><p>If Poppy was here, next to him… then who the fuck had set off the motion detector he’d set up at her place?</p><p>“Everything okay?” Poppy asked, setting down her beer.</p><p>Tora stood.</p><p>“…yup. Gotta take a call. You order whatever you want, okay?” He tossed the menu to her and stalked outside, dialing Gyu as he walked.</p><p>The phone rang as Tora paced back and forth. He lit a cigarette, then finally:</p><p>“Big bro, what’s up?”</p><p>“Gyu. You on guard duty?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“So who the <em>fuck </em>is on Poppylan’s balcony?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Tora could hear a crash as Gyu stood up, knocking over his chair.</p><p>“Shit, bro. Are you sure? I don’t see anything. Nobody came through the gate.”</p><p>“Are <em>you </em>fucking sure, Gyu? Sensor went off.”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m sure,” Gyu said, but his voice was uncertain.</p><p>“If you <em>fucking missed</em>…”</p><p>“I’ll go check it out right now,” Gyu said. “See what’s up.”</p><p>“Wait. No. Don’t go alone. Get Brian or Damian, whoever’s closer. And don’t you dare make a fucking scene, okay? <em>No fucking cops</em>. No fucking gunshots unless you gotta.”</p><p>“I know the drill,” Gyu said dryly. “I’ll call you when we’ve got it secure.”</p><p>“You do that,” Tora growled.</p><p>He hung up the call and dropped his half-smoked cigarette on the ground, grinding it out. He glared at the crushed butt for a long moment before muttering under his breath and heading back inside.</p><p>“You sure everything’s okay?” Poppy asked as he silently sat next to her.</p><p>Her face was etched with worry. He forced himself to smile at her.</p><p>“Yeah, s’fine. Just a work thing, Bobby. Nothing you gotta worry about.”</p><p>What was he supposed to tell her? <em>Hey, sweetheart, I installed a motion sensor on your place like a fucking stalker, and someone might be trying to break in right now, but don’t worry your pretty head, I sent a couple of nice, friendly thugs to break in and take care of it?</em></p><p>Yeah, right. Because <em>that</em> was the way to win her fucking heart.</p><p>If there was a problem, he’d tell her. But not before he knew he had to. Maybe the alarm had just triggered on its own, or something.</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, right.</em>
</p><p>“So…” Poppy said, blinking at him.</p><p>“Sorry,” Tora growled. “So, you, uh. Read anything good recently?”</p><p>“Just Quincey’s stuff,” she said with a smile. “You?”</p><p>“S’all I ever read,” he muttered. “He send you the scene where the carriage breaks down yet?”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Poppy said.</p><p>“True story,” Tora informed her. “Only, it was my car.”</p><p>“Wait, what?” Poppy said, gaping at him. He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you…?”</p><p>Just then the bartender came back with plates and silverware. He vanished again, as Tora winked at Poppy. Then the bartender came back, juggling a pizza, a basket of fries, and mozzarella sticks.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” Tora groaned. “What was that about being an adult?”</p><p>“Hey, I got a salad too,” Poppy protested.</p><p>The bartender did, indeed, return with a salad. Tora shook his head and smiled.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. Like that makes up for it.”</p><p>“It’s just food,” Poppy lectured him. “Don’t you ever enjoy your life?”</p><p>“Now and then,” Tora said. “Had a pretty good afternoon today.”</p><p>“Oh, did you?” Poppy said.</p><p>“Yup,” he said.</p><p>He glanced at his phone. Still nothing.</p><p>
  <em>Calm the fuck down. It’ll take ‘em time to get together and scope the place out. So don’t jump to conclusions. Sides, Poppy’s safe. She’s with ya. Just enjoy the night.</em>
</p><p>“…did <em>you</em>?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy said. She smiled, but looked down. The place was so dimly lit it was impossible to tell if she was blushing. “I did, Tora. I, um. I’m glad you changed your mind.”</p><p>“Yeah, me too,” he mumbled. “Anyways.” He tore off a slice of the pizza and tossed it on her plate, fighting back his own blush.</p><p>“Thanks,” Poppy said. “Anyways, this car story? I have a <em>lot</em> of questions.”</p><p>Tora smirked and reached for a french-fry.</p><p>“Ask away, sweetheart. I mean…” he froze with the fry halfway to his lips, and glanced at her in a mild panic. “Poppy. Sorry.”</p><p>She bit her lip and looked away, then back at him.</p><p>“Tora?” she said.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“You can call me that if you want,” she murmured.</p><p>“Wha, ‘sweetheart?’ Really?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she said, and cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m still… it’s just…”</p><p>He blinked at her, his breath caught in his throat.</p><p>Just then, his phone began to ring.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Light Pollution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for your patience and well-wishes, everyone!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“You can call me that if you want.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wha, ‘sweetheart?’”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah. I mean, I’m still… it’s just…”</em>
</p><p>*</p><p>Emotional whiplash.</p><p>That was just about the only way to describe it. First there was an unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest, as his heartbeat picked up to a rapid tempo and Poppy started to say it was okay for him to call her sweetheart. That he <em>could call her</em> sweetheart.</p><p>Then the warmth was a block of ice, and the rapid beat a slow, drawn out thump, as his phone rang softly and the word PINKY appeared on the screen.</p><p>“I know you’re just teasing when you call me that, but I kind of…” Poppy muttered, her cheeks bright red. The phone rang again, louder. She cleared her throat. “Are you going to get that?”</p><p>“I…” Tora gripped the phone. He looked down at it, then at Poppy. Then back at it. “Fuck, sorry, I gotta.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” she murmured. "I know a thing or two about overworking. I’ll be here.” She shrugged with a smile.</p><p>Kicking himself as hard as he ever had, Tora hit answer and got out of his chair. He strode quickly towards the door so Poppy wouldn’t overhear anything.</p><p>“Status?” he growled.</p><p>“Hey Big Bro, how’s it going? So, uh, look. Got a situation. Nobody got shot or anything, we’re okay, so…”</p><p>“Get to the <em>fucking point</em>,” Tora snapped, slamming the bar’s door open with his palm. The heavy door swung out like it was weightless, and Tora strode through it. </p><p>“Right, yeah. It, uh. S’Claude and one of his guys.”</p><p>The door swung closed behind Tora. The tiger came to a halt, frozen on the sidewalk and glaring down the street.</p><p>“Claude?” he repeated. “<em>Fucking Claude Lang?</em>”</p><p>“…yeah,” Damian confirmed. "Well, him and some guy we don't know, I didn't get his name but..."</p><p>“What the<em> fuck</em> does he want?”</p><p>“Um, he said he was just following orders from the big boss, so…”</p><p>“Jesus fucking goddamn shit--<em>Damien</em>, what the <em>hell </em>did you tell <em>him</em>?” Tora growled, beginning to pace.</p><p>“Just that you had us watching the area! Nothing about her. And he left pretty much right away, so…” Damien rambled.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora muttered. He threw his head back and glared up at the evening sky. The stars were obscured by the blinding city lights. He took in a deep breath and screamed: “<em>FUCK.”</em></p><p>He could hear Damien’s sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone. He could see a man who’d been walking down the sidewalk cross to the other side of the road to get away from him.</p><p>He didn’t care about either. He hung up the phone without saying another word, and turned around, and directed his glare at the closed door of the bar.</p><p>How the hell was he going to handle this without telling Poppy? She couldn’t go home unprotected—couldn’t fucking go <em>anywhere </em>unprotected, as far as he was concerned—until he knew exactly why Claude <em>fucking</em> Lang had been sent to her apartment.</p><p>A dozen jumbled, ill-formed ideas slid across his head, each worse than the last. In a sick culmination where he couldn't even recognize himself, he imagined for a moment setting her entire building on fire when she wasn’t home. She’d have to move somewhere new, after that. He could put her somewhere safe. Somewhere no fucking Balthuman dog could find her…</p><p>But he couldn’t do that. He’d never pull it off.</p><p>Not that he couldn’t <em>do</em> <em>it</em>, technically. But he couldn’t lie to her. Not about something that big. Not to mention the people who'd be hurt if he did. He'd go through anyone to keep Poppy safe (well, any stranger, at least), but that was a train wreck of an idea.</p><p>Not a solution. There <em>was</em> no solution.</p><p>He tilted his head back again, staring up into the empty void of the night sky, its shadows painted gold and blue with the light pollution. As guilt churned relentlessly in Tora’s stomach, he found his thoughts flickering back to another night, one where the stars had been on full and brilliant display, and he had sat with Poppy gazing out at the tapestry of the night and the city below.</p><p>At thug’s pavilion, he’d told her he’d always been honest, as honest as he could be.</p><p>If Poppy ever asked again, he did not want to have to change his answer. Not to her. Which meant all he could do was come clean now, and pray to any fucking god that would listen that it didn’t mean losing her.</p><p>Walking back into that bar, knowing it might be the last time Poppy could look at him without horror in her eyes, was harder than walking into any fight he’d ever been in. He knew how to use his fists, his elbows, his knees, a knife. A gun.</p><p>But his words? For something like this?</p><p>He clenched his hands tight, until his short nails dug shallow crescents into his palms. Tora shook his head and dragged himself back inside.</p><p>He sat back down, facing her. The look on his face left no secret that something had gone wrong. Poppy was chewing. She swallowed and blinked at him with her wide brown eyes.</p><p>“Tora? You don’t look okay,” she said, frowning.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m... not.” A lopsided smile flickered across his face, then vanished.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Can I help?” She looked at him in concern.</p><p>He frowned and glanced away, then back at her. He put one elbow on the bar, and the other on his thigh, his whole body pointed towards her.</p><p>“Look, Bobby,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t lie to ya, and I’m not about to start.”</p><p>“…Okay,” she said. She frowned, her eyebrows knotting together.</p><p>“…So I gotta tell you something, and it’s not gonna be easy to hear.”</p><p>“Go ahead,” she said softly, turning to face him and clasping her hands on her lap. For a moment they just stared at each other. Tora took a deep breath and kept his eyes on hers.</p><p>“When we met, I thought you mighta gotten mixed up in some clan stuff, even if you didn’t know about it.” He kept his voice too soft to travel to anybody’s ears but Poppy’s: not a difficult task, with the bar’s music.  </p><p>“What do you mean?” She reached up and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.</p><p>“Can’t tell ya that,” Tora said, crossing his arms and frowning at her. His heart was beating about a mile a minute even though he kept his expression blank. Any moment she was going to lose it. Hate him, or finally be as afraid of him as she should be. He didn't want to watch it happen. He didn't want to watch her expression change to hatred, but he was scared to look away, scared to lose sight of her. </p><p>“So…?”</p><p>“So after that night ya made me dinner? I put up a motion sensor outside your building, to make sure nobody broke in your balcony.”</p><p>“You… did <em>what</em>?” She didn't look angry, not exactly. More confused and disbelieving.</p><p>“Not a camera,” he said hurriedly, trying to smooth over what he knew was a lost cause. “I know how you felt ‘bout having your picture taken. Just a sensor, to make sure nobody… y’know.”</p><p>“Oh. Geeze.” Poppy turned back towards the bar, gazing dispassionately at the food in front of her while she thought this over. She took a deep breath.</p><p>Tora watched her process this invasion of privacy, his arms still crossed.</p><p>“…Ok...ay,” she said slowly, after a long moment. “So you’re telling me now, because…?”</p><p>“Because it went off ‘bout twenty minutes ago,” he said.</p><p>“What…?” Poppy didn’t turn to face him, but he watched her face go slack and her eyes widen.</p><p>“Had my guys check it out,” Tora said softly. “Nobody’s hurt, or anything, but it was…a guy I know. Not a friend. From work. One of… uh, one of the guys who went after your Mr. Lamb. You can’t go home alone, Poppy.”</p><p>She turned her face away from him. He watched her shoulders tremble and fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. At last she glanced back at him, hurt and confusion in her eyes.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Tora said, his low voice ragged with passion. His words came uncharacteristically quickly, each tumbling over the next. “Never meant to put you in danger, Bobby, only ever wanted to keep you safe, s’the only reason I put that fucking sensor up. I <em>know</em> you hate me, but you <em>gotta </em>believe I <em>never </em>wanted…”</p><p>“<em>Hate </em>you?” she whispered. “Tora, I don’t hate you.”</p><p>“You don’t?”</p><p>“No,” she said, sniffling and looking up at him. “Of course not. I… I’m not exactly <em>thrilled, </em>but come on. I knew you were mixed up in some bad stuff already.”</p><p>“Right,” he said, as a surge of hope lanced through him. <em>If she didn’t hate him…</em></p><p>“Did you really only put it up to keep me safe?” Poppy asked slowly.</p><p>“Of course,” he said. “Yes.”</p><p>“You promise?” She locked her eyes with him, searching his face for any hint of a lie.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he said earnestly, staring back, daring her to look deeper and see everything in his heart.</p><p>“And that’s why your friend Gyu is working security now, too, isn’t it?”</p><p>“…yeah.”</p><p>“Then can you just promise you won’t do something like that again without telling me first?”</p><p>He frowned and looked down at his sneakers, desperate to promise but not knowing if he could.</p><p>“I… not if I can help it,” he said, still looking down.</p><p>“Tora…”</p><p>“Look.” He swept his gold eyes back up to burn into hers again. “I’ll never lie to ya. And I’ll try not to keep secrets. I promise I’ll do my best not to. But at the end of the day, Poppylan, if I’m being honest with you, I’m gonna do what I think I have to do to keep you safe. Even if it means doing something you don’t like. But that is the <em>only</em> reason I’d ever keep a secret like this from you again. To keep you safe.”</p><p>“I can live with that. But why was he there?” she said softly. “Your… coworker?"</p><p>“I don’t know,” Tora said. “But I’m gonna find out.”</p><p>“Okay,” Poppy said. Her hands were fists on her lap. He looked down and noticed they were trembling slightly.</p><p>Hesitating a little, uncertain he was allowed to, Tora reached slowly for one of her hands. His fingers brushed against hers, and her fist opened to let his fingers lace between hers. Then Poppy was squeezing his hand, and Tora squeezed back. It was unbelievable that she hadn't torn him a new one. He'd been so ready for her to shut him out the moment he came clean. This woman was a goddamned miracle.</p><p>And suddenly she was standing up off her bar stool and pressing herself against his chest. With his breath caught in his throat, Tora wrapped his arms tight around her, crushing her protectively in his muscular grip.   </p><p>“I’m gonna keep you safe, Bobby,” he whispered into her hair. "I fucking swear. You don't hafta be afraid."</p><p>“But who keeps <em>you</em> safe?” she asked.</p><p>He snorted. </p><p>“Don't fucking worry about that,” Tora muttered. “I got this. It's gonna be okay... sweetheart.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy, fam.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora sat alone in his car in a parking garage, surrounded by concrete and bright fluorescent lights. He took a deep breath and leaned back, his eyes blank as he retreated inside his mind. He was about to call Vincent, something he never did without prompting. He had to be ready, had to brace himself.</p><p>Poppy was with Damien and Gyu. As safe as he could keep her, at the moment. He took another deep breath, then jerked as his phone went off in his hand.</p><p>Quincey was calling.</p><p>“Christ,” Tora muttered, not sure what he’d been expecting; why his heart had jumped like the phone was a live bomb. He sighed and hit answer.</p><p>“Not a great time, Princess. Call ya back.”</p><p>“Tora, wait, Gyu just filled me in,” Quincey said quickly.</p><p>“…Course he fuckin’ did,” Tora snorted. He looked out the passenger window at the rows of cars in the strange, artificial landscape.</p><p>“Look, you haven’t done anything stupid yet, have you?”</p><p>“No. ‘Bout to.”</p><p>“You know Dad will try to use her against you.”</p><p>“No shit, Sherlock,” Tora growled, rolling his eyes. “Why the fuck do <em>you</em> think I tried to keep her outta my life?”</p><p>Not that he’d been trying to do that since the night at Gudrun’s. It was his own damn fault. He could have kept his distance, Quincey’s editor or not. But if he was being honest with himself, he was never going to have the self-restraint for that. The moment Quincey had pulled her back into Tora’s life, his heart had circled her like a lifeless satellite orbiting a green planet.</p><p>“Tora…” Quincey said, with a tired sigh.</p><p>“No, fuck you,” Tora snapped. “If you kept her outta this, she wouldn’t be in my life. But you had to fucking meddle, just like you always <em>fucking </em>do. And now who the fuck knows what <em>he</em> knows. What the fuck <em>he’s</em> gonna do.” He ranted with his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, scrounging in his pocket for his cigarettes and lighting one.</p><p>“I hadn’t thought of that,” Quincey drawled sarcastically. “Are you done with your tantrum, honey? Please, just come over before you do something rash. I have an idea, but it’s a little unconventional.”</p><p>*</p><p>Quincey sat on the couch, one knee over the other, both hands folded on his lap. Tora cross his arms and stared down at the twice-royal young clan heir.</p><p>“Well?” Tora snapped when Quincey was silent.</p><p>It had been easier to remain calm, ironically enough, when he was with Poppy. The longer they were apart, the more Tora found himself spiraling, imagining worst-case scenarios. Imagining what Vincent already knew; imagining getting a call from Damien or Gyu that they were under attack, and Tora too far away to reach them… his finger tapped impatiently on his arms, and his glare darkened.</p><p>“Look,” Quincey said, clearing his throat. “I’ve been thinking: why would Dad send someone to her place?”</p><p>“Leverage,” Tora growled, his voice rough as gravel.</p><p>“Ex-<em>actly</em>,” Quincey said. “He only cares because he thinks <em>you</em> care.”</p><p>“Did you call me over here to tell me shit I already know?” Tora said.</p><p>“We have to play up the ‘editor’ thing,” Quincey said, ignoring his bodyguard-slash-BFF’s temper.</p><p>“And what the hell d’we do when he doesn’t fucking buy <em>that</em>?” Tora snapped. “If he’s sending Martin’s dickwads out to find out shit ‘bout her, he’s gotta know she’s more than your <em>damned editor. </em>That we’ve been spending a helluva lotta time to together lately. And, shit, that I have my guys watching her place.”</p><p>“Obviously. But I bet he doesn’t know she’s <em>your</em> girlfriend.”</p><p>“She’s. Not. My. Girlfriend,” Tora enunciated.</p><p>“Your <em>boo</em> then. Whatever you’re calling it. Stop wasting time.”</p><p>“If he’s sniffing after her it’s too late for me to distance myself,” Tora said.</p><p>“No,” Quincey agreed. “But. I know one thing to stop him from hurting her. If he doesn’t buy that she’s just my editor, then say <em>I </em>asked you to take care of Poppy. Say <em>I’m </em>the reason you’re always around her.”</p><p>“Why the hell would…”</p><p>“Unless the two of you have been getting it on in public, or he's got spy cameras at your places... say she’s <em>my </em>girlfriend and you’re doing it all for me. He wouldn’t dare hurt her then.”</p><p>Tora’s hands jerked into fists. His eyes snapped in a rage so thinly concealed that the mask he struggled to keep in place might as well have been a layer of cling-wrap.</p><p>“Like hell she’s…”</p><p>“<em>If she were,</em>” Quincey said loudly, talking over Tora in a tone so cold and commanding it was like Vincent were the one on the couch. “<em>If she were, </em>he wouldn’t mess with her.” His tone softened now that Tora was silently fuming again. The tiger stared at the wall, unable to meet Quincey’s gaze. “I know you don’t like it, and I know she won’t like it, and to be honest? I don’t like it. But can you think of a better plan in the next… I don’t know, half an hour?”</p><p>“Fucking hell,” Tora mumbled. At last he shook his head, walked forward, and collapsed onto the couch next to Quincey. Quincey watched Tora out of the side of his eye while Tora stared at nothing and made invisible calculations in his head.</p><p>Quincey wasn’t <em>wrong</em>, that was the thing. Vincent doted on his only son. And more than that, the Balthuman big boss had a freaky, almost obsessive thing about bloodlines. Though the big boss was not normally homophobic, it was no secret in the inner circle that he wanted an heir. Quincey wasn’t strictly <em>gay¸ </em>but he’d never brought a woman home.</p><p>Whether or not Vincent approved of someone like Poppy for his son—and he absolutely would not—the prospect of Quincey settling down with <em>any</em> woman would stop him from trying to get rid of her.</p><p>“This is fucking twisted, you know that?” Tora mumbled. “And there’s about a hundred ways it could go wrong.”</p><p>“Sorry, honey. But I think the moment Claude climbed through her balcony you lost your chance at a simple answer.”</p><p>“How the hell am I supposed to tell Poppylan?” Tora whispered, and looked at Quincey with such a hurt and bewildered expression that Quincey’s eyes widened. He’d never, <em>never</em>, seen that expression on Tora’s face before.</p><p>“One thing at a time,” Quincey said softly. “If we can get away with just the 'editor' thing? We will. But at least we have a backup plan, right? Now, let’s go face Dad. I’m coming with you; it’ll be easier to sell if I’m there. We can iron out the rest of the details on the drive."</p><p>*</p><p>They rode the elevator to the penthouse in silence, hands in their pockets, both men internally preparing for the ordeal ahead.</p><p>The elevator came to a stop.</p><p>“Hey,” Tora said suddenly, his tone gruff.</p><p>“Hm?” Quincey glanced at him. </p><p>“Thank you,” Tora said under his breath, as the doors slowly rumbled apart.</p><p>Quincey answered with a minute nod of his head, and the two stepped forwards into one of Vincent’s many lavish homes.</p><p>“Young master Balthuman,” said Smithy, strolling towards them down the hallway. “Your father is waiting for you in the living room.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Quincey said, his voice and his face both less animated than usual. He was never fully himself in the world of the clans.</p><p>Tora kept himself a few paces behind Quincey. Here, they were not equals. He was just a dog.</p><p>They stepped into the living room. Vincent was on the couch, reading a newspaper with a cigar in one hand. Even at home he was dressed in a grey suit and vest, his leather shoes polished to a shine.</p><p>Tora hung by the doorway, just like he was expected to. They may have been “family,” but there was no secret where he fell on the pecking order in this small group. Quincey was better positioned to navigate this conversation than Tora was, no matter what prepared lies they did or did not end up having to tell.</p><p>“Quinceton,” Vincent said, folding the paper in half and tossing it on the coffee table. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”</p><p>“Dad,” said Quincey. “I wanted to ask why…” Quincey blinked, his eye caught by a swirling, gem-encrusted broach resting on the side table.</p><p>Unmistakably, Poppy’s missing jewelry, the piece Benjamin had taken.</p><p>“That’s weird,” Quincey muttered. “Dad… where did you get <em>that</em>?”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. All Things Considered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That?” Vincent said, glancing at the jeweled pin and back at Quincey. “Why do you ask?”</p><p>Quincey blinked, and put his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“It just caught my eye,” he said. “Looks a little familiar, I guess?”</p><p>“Old family piece,” Vincent said. “It’s got a lot of history. I recognized it from an old photograph of your grandmother. You might have seen it the family archive. Anyways, Martin brought it over. He found it floating around the black market.”</p><p>Vincent reached over and picked up the pin. He turned it over in his hands and shrugged, then put it back down.</p><p>Tora got out a cigarette and lit it to give himself something to do. His head spun. What in the ever-loving fuck had Poppylan been doing with an old Balthuman relic? He took a deep drag of nicotine and wondered, for a moment, whether his little hamster had some dark secrets.</p><p>“Are you thinking about the jewelry trade?” Vincent asked Quincey.</p><p>“No, it just caught my eye,” Quincey said, settling down into an armchair and crossing his legs.</p><p>Vincent snorted and puffed at his cigar before giving his son a steely-eyed look.</p><p>“Still writing trash, then?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes, Dad. Writing <em>novels</em>,” Quincey murmured.</p><p>“Undignified novels. They’re a distraction. Jewelry would be an excellent way for you to enter the family business again. It suits your talents.”</p><p>“Dad…” Quincey said with a low sigh.</p><p>“What?” Vincent raised an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“Look, about the books. I just came over to ask if you sent Claude to break into my editor’s apartment. And if so, why.” Quincey scratched at the arm of his chair, not meeting his father’s gaze.</p><p>Vincent smiled and shifted on the couch. He looked at Tora as he spoke rather than Quincey.</p><p>“Just keeping an eye on new developments,” Vincent drawled. “Especially when it seems your bodyguard might be… sidetracked. Isn’t that true, Tora?”</p><p><em>Jesus Christ. Old man’s a fucking voyeur or shit, </em>Tora grumbled to himself, using some last ounce of humor to staunch the rapid, panicked beating of his heart. He took the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment and shrugged, exhaling a billow of smoke out of the side of his mouth. Vincent turned back to Quincey as the younger Balthuman spoke.</p><p>“Tora isn’t distracted, Dad. I know where he is at all times.”</p><p>“Quinceton,” Vincent said with a smirk. “You always were bad at chess. So now you’ve made one of two errors: either you’re <em>wrong</em>, and don’t have the grip on your man that you should. Or you’ve made a fatal allowance. Your staff should not be fraternizing. Loyalty is a straight line. It goes…”</p><p>“Straight up, not side to side,” Quincey muttered angrily, under his breath.</p><p>“Don’t take that tone with me. You should show some respect. Or do you want to waste time and blood making amateur mistakes? Think you know better than your old man?”</p><p>Vincent leaned forward and ground out his cigar in the ashtray, only half smoked. But he stayed leaning forward, peering at Quincey with a coldness that was not at all familial.</p><p>“Which is it?” Vincent asked, as Quincey sat silently in the chair and stared at his feet. “Are you blind, or just an idiot?”</p><p>“Neither,” Quincey muttered. His back stiffened and he drew his gaze back up to his father’s. “She’s my girlfriend, actually. So it’s neither.”</p><p>“Oh, Quinceton,” Vincent groaned. “Are you still trying to play the middle? I have surveillance of them from a week ago. Do you want to see it?”</p><p>Tora’s eyes widened. Surveillance from <em>where? </em>Of <em>what? </em>Inside their homes, or out in public?</p><p>He should have been more fucking careful. Tora pushed up his sleeves to reveal the bottom edge of his tattoos, his hands shaking, and drew a deep breath of nicotine and smoke. But neither of the other men were looking at him.</p><p>“They <em>were</em> together,” Quincey said, his voice smooth and his eyes as cold as his father’s. He waved a hand aimlessly in the air. “Then I decided I wanted her. So Tora gave her to me.”</p><p>Jesus. Fucking... what the hell was Quincey thinking?</p><p>“Did he?” Vincent said with a chuckle. “Well, Tora? How do you feel about that, son?”</p><p>“S’fine,” Tora growled. “I’m just the fuckin’ muscle, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Hm,” Vincent said. “Well, that’s not quite true, is it? Get me a scotch, Tora. Get Quinceton one too.”</p><p>Tora glared for a moment, then strode to the drink cart. He turned his back to Vincent so the older man would not see Tora’s hands trembling as he poured the amber liquid from its crystal decanter into two rocks glasses.</p><p><em>Wish I could fucking poison Vin,</em> Tora thought angrily to himself. <em>Watch that old fuck choke.</em></p><p>“I hope you at least bought him a night at one of our cafés,” Tora heard Vincent say softly. “A bold move, son, and not a bad one. But I’d be careful if I were you.”</p><p>“I can handle Tora, dad,” Quincey drawled.</p><p>Tora turned and walked back to the two Balthumans, setting their drinks down roughly in front of them.</p><p>“Thank you, Tora. Now, have you boys eaten?” Vincent asked, picking up the glass. “I just got a new cook. After that regrettable accident with the last one.” Vincent stared blankly into the distance for a moment, shrugged, and looked back at Quincey as he took a sip of scotch.</p><p>“Regrettably, I have plans, and I need Tora to accompany me. Tomorrow?”</p><p>“No, I’m busy then. Sunday?”</p><p>“Sunday it is,” Quincey said.</p><p>*</p><p>They rode down the elevator in silence. Then walked out of the building in silence. Walked to the car, in silence. Got in the car. Silence.</p><p>Drove down the street and around the corner. Got onto the highway. Took the first exit, in silence.</p><p>Slid off the side of the road and slammed to a halt as Tora smashed onto the break, throwing both men forward against their seatbelts. Quincey grabbed the door and the dash in front of him, eyes wide.</p><p>“Quincey, what the <em>HELL </em>was that?” Tora snapped.</p><p>“I panicked?” Quincey said, softly.</p><p>Tora drew in a breath, glaring at his friend.</p><p>“So <em>now</em> ya fucking dad knows I like her <em>and</em> thinks you two are together. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Quincey, what the. Goddamned. H<em>ell</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Quincey muttered. “What was I supposed to say? I thought it went well, all things considered.”</p><p>“You thought it went well,” Tora echoed in disbelief.</p><p>“Given the circumstances and what he already knew? Sure. Oh, we need to go get Benjamin,” Quincey said, snapping his fingers as he remembered.</p><p>“Poppy first,” Tora growled.</p><p>“Not if you want dad to find out his old family heirloom was <em>also</em> in her possession, Tora,” Quincey drawled. “We need to get Benjamin and clean that loose end up. Speaking of which, do you have any idea…?”</p><p>“No,” Tora grumbled, and glared at the steering wheel. He slowly looked over his shoulder, then pulled back onto the road. His voice now was entirely flat. “Benjamin. Poppylan. Then the gym. I need to fucking hit something.”</p><p>Quincey, normally proper and perfectly postured, slouched down in the passenger seat. He covered his eyes and shook his head, letting out a big sigh.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The Guest Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as Tora was concerned, the discussion with Benjamin lasted entirely too long. But Quincey had made it clear going in that the dumbass teenager was not to be hurt. Not even to be roughed up a little.</p><p>“He’s a fucking thief,” Tora had growled.</p><p>“So were you at that age, honey,” Quincey reprimanded. “Violence is <em>not</em> the answer. And Bennie isn’t a bad guy, he’s just in over his head.”        </p><p>“That’s a fucking load of…” Tora started to say. But Quincey had slowly raised one eyebrow, fixing Tora with a look that made even the deadly bodyguard exhale sharply and stare moodily out the window of the car. And then Benjamin had swaggered up to the car and slid into the backseat, putting an end to <em>that</em> conversation.</p><p>So at last it had been time to pick up Poppylan.</p><p>“Let me go alone,” Tora had said, his voice a little hoarse, as they pulled away from Benjamin’s. “I’ll drop ya off.”</p><p>“You don’t think we should explain together?” Quincey said. “We’re <em>all</em> in it, you know?”</p><p>“I’ll bring her over,” Tora said. “But I’m getting her alone.”</p><p>“You know not to kiss her, though, right?”</p><p>“Quincey…” Tora growled.</p><p>“Dad could have guys anywhere, so…”</p><p>“Quincey. I’m not a fucking idiot,” Tora said.</p><p>*</p><p>Tora didn’t wait in the car for Poppy to come out. He parked and walked to Gyu’s apartment, eyes scanning his surroundings on hyper alert. No sign of trouble. But then, <em>he</em> knew how to disguise himself, how to hide out of sight. So did other Balthumans.</p><p>Poppy emerged after he knocked. Tora nodded to Damian and Gyu, and neatly sidestepped Poppy’s attempt at a hug.</p><p>“Not here,” he muttered under his breath, and pointed to where his car sat. She blinked, and followed him slowly, her eyes on the ground.</p><p>Tora’s face was expressionless as he opened the passenger seat door, and then as he shut it for her and came around to the driver’s seat.</p><p>“You okay?” he murmured, glancing at her.</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“They treat you alright?”</p><p>“Those guys?” Poppy peered up at him, eyes wide. “Yeah, they were great. Tora, what’s going on?”</p><p>“We’re going to Quincey’s,” he said, pulling the car out and speeding off. “And I’ll explain it all there, Poppy. Swear.”</p><p>“You figured out what’s going on?”</p><p>“Kinda,” he said, hands tight on the wheel, eyes focused on the road. “Look. Let’s talk about something else. Just ‘till we get there. Okay? Don’t mean to freak ya out.”</p><p>“Alright,” Poppy said, frowning and rubbing her neck. “Um. Well, you never told me about your car breaking down.”</p><p>“Shit,” Tora said, chuckling. “That’s right. Well, it was a few years back. About four in the morning. Early as fuckin’ hell, the birds were already going at it, and I’d been up all night, don’t ask me doing what…”</p><p>*</p><p>Tora unlocked Quincey’s condo and held the door for Poppy.</p><p>“Thanks, Tora,” she said, in her damned angelic voice, and stepped through the doorway.</p><p><em>Christ</em>, he thought. <em>I really am a goner, huh? Shit’s hitting the fan. We’re all tangled up and backwards. And here I am, still pining after her like…</em></p><p>“Hi, honey,” Quincey called, from the kitchen. “I've been looking. The apartment’s clean.”</p><p>“Clean?” Poppy whispered, blinking up at Tora.</p><p>“Not bugged,” he said, and put a hand on her lower back. “Sit down, Poppylan.”</p><p>She took a deep breath and settled on the couch. Tora sat next to her, rubbed his face with his hands, and then sighed.</p><p>“Alright,” he said, as Quincey came and settled in an armchair. “Here’s the deal. That guy was after you ‘cuz I’m a fucking idiot.”</p><p>“Tora…” Poppy said, frowning.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Bobby,” he muttered. “I knew better than to get you involved, but I did. The big boss…”</p><p>“My dad,” Quincey supplied. “Unfortunately.”</p><p>“…he got some kind of surveillance of us.”</p><p>“What?” Poppy said, eyes wide. “He was spying on us?”</p><p>“Something like that,” Tora said. “I’ll, uh. Check ya apartment, for cameras. It was probably just when we were out, sometime. But he knows we were a thing.”</p><p>“Oh my gosh,” Poppy said, and shivered. “Let me get this straight. Because I was involved with you, someone broke into my…?”</p><p>“I sincerely apologize for my family,” Quincey muttered. “But on the bright side, we have it under control.”</p><p>Tora looked away from Poppy and folded his arms.</p><p>“And that means…?”</p><p>“It means,” Tora growled, “you aren’t safe with me, but ya are safe with Quincey, ‘cuz he’s fuckin’ untouchable. So they think he’s your boyfriend. It’s not safe for you to be with me, not like that. So just… just wait a few weeks, and then he can say ya broke up and you can just…”</p><p>Tora bit his lip and frowned at his foot.</p><p>Jesus fucking christ. He was a grown-ass man.</p><p>He stood up slowly and paced out of the room, down the hallway. Quincey could finish that conversation. He couldn’t handle it. Not just then.</p><p>He shut the door to the guest bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, fighting back feelings of panic and guilt and a pathetic trickle of self-pity. He could hear a faint, muffled thread of conversation, but couldn’t make out the words.</p><p>After a long moment, there was a soft knock on the door.</p><p>“What?” Tora asked, one hand over his eyes.</p><p>“Can I come in? It’s Poppy.”</p><p>He smiled despite himself.</p><p>“…You don’t have to announce it,” he said. “I can tell you two apart.”</p><p>Long pause. The door creaked open. He took his hand from his face, drew a deep breath, and stared at her shoes. He felt like a damned puppy that had an accident in the house and was being scolded.</p><p>Couldn’t even keep one little hamster safe. He wasn’t cut out for romance. He sure as hell wasn't a fucking tiger.</p><p>“Tora?” she said. She came to the bed and settled beside him, sitting on her hands and frowning. “Have you been… living your whole life, like this?”</p><p>“Sorry,” he muttered. “S’fuckin’ embarrassing. I should’ve kept my distance.”</p><p>“You tried,” she said.</p><p>“Not very hard,” Tora said, staring over her shoulder instead of meeting her gaze.</p><p>“No,” Poppy agreed. “Not very hard. Thankfully.”</p><p>“Look,” he said. “I’m gonna stop going to Quincey’s meetings, okay? In a few weeks he’ll tell his dad he’s bored of ya. You can just be his editor, and I’ll stay outta your life, and you can date whoever you want. Or not date. Whatever you… y’know. You can do whatever ya want.”</p><p>“I don’t want you to stay out of my life,” she said. “I <em>want</em> to keep… doing what we were doing. Exploring… that.”</p><p>He scratched his neck. “We can’t be seen in public, sweetheart,” he said.</p><p>“Then we won’t be in public,” she said.</p><p>“You deserve better than that.”</p><p>“I deserve what I want, don’t I?” she grabbed his hand, and pulled it to her waist. He blinked down at her, and Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck. His heart thumped. “Quincey said we can use his condo, to meet. Which is, I mean, a <em>little </em>odd, but if it’s that or nothing…”</p><p>“Can you really live like that?” Tora whispered.</p><p>“I don’t know. But isn’t it at least worth trying?”</p><p>He smiled and slowly traced his knuckle down the side of her face, pausing at her collarbone and bowing his forehead to hers.</p><p>“I don’t want you getting hurt, Bobby,” Tora whispered.</p><p>“You know what, Tora?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>She pressed a hand against his heart, the other still wrapped around his neck.</p><p>“My dad,” Poppy said slowly, “died a few years ago. From cancer. It was the… most awful thing I’ve gone through. So he got hurt, and I got hurt, and it had nothing to do with, with, people breaking through balconies, or gangs, or… what I’m trying to say is, life is full of hurt. Tons of it. Running from it doesn’t keep you safe.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you don’t need more hurt,” Tora said. “<em>You</em> can live a normal fuckin’ life. I can’t. I’m not gonna put that on you. I’m sorry I tried to.”</p><p>“You aren’t,” Poppy said. “I’m choosing to stay, Tora. I can’t say for how long. I can’t pretend I’m not scared witless. But I know if I…”</p><p>She trailed off, and bit her lip.</p><p>“If you?” he prodded softly.</p><p>“If I walk away,” she whispered. “I couldn’t just forget you. So I want to stay. Even with all that complication. At least for now. If you’ll let me.”</p><p>“Of course I’ll let you,” he rasped. “I fuckin’ shouldn’t. I should drag ya out the goddamned door and stick ya ass on a train headed somewhere far away. But I sure as fuck don’t have the discipline.”</p><p>“Good,” said Poppy.</p><p>She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled his lap, leaning over him for a kiss.</p><p>He pulled her flat against him, and flipped her over, kissing her hard and running his hand down her body in sharp relief. Poppy moaned into him as they ground against each other, both desperate to feel closer to the other, to wipe away their fear and uncertainty and remember why they were so unwilling to part ways.</p><p>For a moment, as Tora’s hand tightened around one of her breasts, he remembered that he had yet to ask her about the broach.</p><p>He tightened his hand on her as Poppy’s lips parted, welcoming his tongue into her mouth.</p><p>And with that, the thought vanished from his mind entirely.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey y'all, enjoy! It's been a little busy so I just pounded this out (bahaha, don't mind me and my bad jokes), so I might return later and make some minor edits--but nothing too dramatic will change if I do. Just typos and bad wording n' stuff like that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Christ,” Tora muttered, his low voice still audible over Quincey’s playlist. “I fuckin’ hate clubs. I <em>said</em> a restaurant, you fuck.”</p><p>“I know, honey,” Quincey said, flipping open his phone to flip forward a few songs. The car radio, connected through Bluetooth, started to play an upbeat pop song. “But. That’s the one upside of this situation.”</p><p>“Upside?” Tora growled.</p><p> Quincey grinned, leaning forward in the back seat.</p><p>“Yup. I can finally drag you where I want. Poppy doesn’t mind, does she?”</p><p>Quincey turned to Poppylan, sitting beside him in the back and gazing wide-eyed out the window of Tora’s car. She turned at her name and smiled. She leaned forward, inching her seatbelt looser, and squeezed Tora’s shoulder.</p><p>“Nope,” she said. “Lighten up, grumpy. We’ll have fun.”</p><p>Tora glanced up in the rearview mirror, catching sight of her angelic face. Her hair was half-pinned back, the rest falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Her wide eyes were painted smoky, her lips pink and cheeks glittering with blush.</p><p>Tora’s lip twitched.</p><p>“You trying ta make me crash?” he grumbled. “Get back in your damned seat, Bobby.”</p><p>Two and a half weeks had passed since they’d gone undercover with their relationship. But it was their first night going out, if it could be called a ‘date,’ to spend time outside of Quincey’s apartment.</p><p>*</p><p>“Darling?” Quincey drawled, offering Poppy his arm. Tora trailed behind, watching as they passed through the entry to the club and into the dark interior.</p><p>He wasn’t angry at either of them. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t have to worry about either of them. But he couldn’t help but feel pissed and helpless all at once.</p><p>Watching Quincey effortlessly fake what Tora wished he could do himself. It was like a twisted version of their birthday party on repeat. They were so much closer, but so much farther apart, than they had been that night. At least she’d let Tora buy her a dress, a tight, black strappy thing that highlighted every curve.</p><p>Well, Quincey had picked that out, too. The fuck did Tora know about women’s fashion? But he’d gone <em>with</em> Quincey, anyways, and picked between that and another, and paid for it.</p><p>It was the thought that counted, anyways. In retrospect it wasn’t Poppy’s style, and he was fairly certain she’d only put it on to please him. But she looked even better than he’d imagined.</p><p>Tora had not been to this particular club before. It was new, opened within the last few months. Quincey had wisely taken them somewhere dark. Red neon lights ran up the walls and glowed behind rows of bottles.</p><p>Too dark for video, or photography. Barely light enough to see anybody around you, just shadows dancing to a pulsing beat of music.</p><p>He’d lived his life in the shadows, and it seemed like he’d have to stay there if he wanted to be with her.</p><p>Right at the bar there was more illumination, enough to see the people around them. He kept his distance from Poppy while they got their drinks. She ordered something stiff. Feeling tense and a little annoyed, he followed her lead.</p><p>Then they left the bar, into the darkness where they couldn’t be recognized. They hadn’t taken more than ten steps away from the bar when Tora reached out to grab Poppy lightly by the elbow.</p><p>She let go of Quincey’s arm, sliding back against him.</p><p>“I’m going to find some strange,” Quincey said, just loud enough for them to hear. “Keep your phone on, honey.”</p><p>Then Quincey was gone.</p><p>Tora pulled Poppy tighter against him, taking a sip of his drink. He winced. He could taste the alcohol. Disgusting. But the feeling of her warmth against him was more than nice.</p><p>“Let’s dance,” Poppy crooned to him.</p><p>“Shit, Poppy. I don’t…”</p><p>“C’mon. Please?”</p><p>“Yeah. Whatever.”</p><p>Smiling, he let her lead him into the crowd. The figures around them were nothing but moving shadows. He chuckled to himself as he watched her shimmy and sway, drink held above her head. He stood still, feeling awkward on the floor but liking the sight of her moving.</p><p>Some of the guys around them were getting too close.</p><p>“Hey, careful,” he murmured, reaching for her waist and towing her towards him. He spoke too softly against the loud music; there was no chance she could hear him.</p><p>She rubbed up against him and then turned, grinding on him.</p><p>“Shit, Bobby,” Tora groaned into her ear. He wrapped his arm around her waist, her breasts crushed against his forearm. “You got some moves, huh?”</p><p>“You like it?” she called over her shoulder, barely audible over the beat.</p><p>“I like you,” he replied.</p><p>He finished his drink in one long gulp and towed her towards a cocktail table, setting the glass there. He could feel his head buzzing.</p><p>Just like he could feel her ass rubbing against him. The music was too loud and not his taste, it smelled like a fuckload of bad perfume, he couldn’t see for shit, but damn if he was unhappy.</p><p>He was fine just where he was. With the glass gone, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her tight as she bobbed to the music.</p><p>His jeans tightened uncomfortably.</p><p>He wanted to inch his hands tighter, to grope her. But he didn’t think she’d like that, in front of all these people. Even as dark as it was here. But god fucking <em>damn</em> did want her.</p><p>Self-control be fucked. He pulled her to a pitch-black corner and pushed her against the wall, grinding his own body against her and kissing her. Tora ran his hands all over her body. He gripped and tugged, squeezing at her. His cock was hard in his pants.</p><p>He could hear Poppy moan, his ear down by her lips as he bent over to nibble at her neck. He ran a hand up under her shirt, groaning softly at the feel of her soft, warm skin.</p><p>“Not here,” she moaned, her breath heavy and panting.</p><p>“Please? I fucking need you.” He begged. Tora leaned his forehead against the wall, drawing his hand back to rest it on her stomach, his heart pounding and his cock throbbing.</p><p>Poppy tangled her hands into his long dark hair, half-up half-down like hers. She bit her lip, grabbed his wrist and tugged him into the back where the bathrooms were located. It was a progressive club; one was labeled unisex.</p><p>Poppy let go of his hand and opened the door. Tora blinked against the sudden flood of light. Tora followed her.</p><p>“Seriously?” he asked her, lips twitching up. He couldn’t imagine Poppy doing something like this.</p><p>He watched her look around, ready for her to change her mind and leave. He kept his hands off her; the room was empty, but he wouldn’t risk anything in bright light. Someone could walk in at any moment. It was a nice club: real doors on the individual little rooms rather than flimsy stalls. Mints by the sink. Marble counters.</p><p>She pushed open one of the wooden doors and dragged him into the little toilet room.</p><p>“Didn’t think you’d be into this,” he muttered. “Not too dirty for ya?”</p><p>“When in Rome,” she whispered, and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him.</p><p>“Huh,” he said. He closed the door firmly and pushed her against it, his hands on her hips. He pressed his lips against hers, his moving desperately and his tongue pressing into her mouth. Slowly he worked one of his hands up and squeezed her breast.</p><p>He lowered himself to his knees, and inched her tight black dress up her hips, revealing frilly panties with cherries on them.</p><p>The dress was sexy, but these were sexier. They were Poppy’s style. His foggy, tipsy, horny brain did its best to take note for next time. Next time, he’d get the dress right.</p><p>“Tor—” she started to moan, but he cut her off with a look. He put a finger up to her lips to remind her to keep quiet. At least not to be crying out his name in public, for fuck’s sake.</p><p>And then his tongue found its way between her legs.</p><p>She was slightly damp already, turned on from rubbing up against him. He dragged his tongue up her lips and pressed it against her clit, then pressed harder and rubbed up and down it. His fingers rose to trace her opening, her swollen vulva gripping his fingers and he gently worked them inside her.</p><p>She tasted like fucking heaven. Better than that, even, was the way her body shook against him. How her hips bucked against his jaw. He pulled his face away from her pussy to watch her toss her head back, biting her lip as a moan escaped her. Her hands drifted away from his hair and traced along the lines of his broad, muscular shoulders.</p><p>Then Tora bent forward to press lips against her again, circling her clit and sucking gently against her. His lips buzzed with friction. His finger plunged in and out of her, like he himself longed to.</p><p><em>Tonight</em>, he thought. <em>When we leave this fucking place. Back at Quince’s. </em></p><p>He closed his eyes and kissed her clit tenderly, then drew circles again. Poppy bucked and whined. Then she just panted, her breath catching in her throat as she slid down the door. He held her up, his tongue demanding on her, pushing her deeper into pleasure.</p><p>Then she came, collapsing forward into his arms, eyes glazed over. Tora stood slowly, pulling her back upright, and held her tight against him. He tugged her panties back up from around her knees, and eased her tight dress over her round ass to cover her.</p><p>“Now you,” Poppy whispered.</p><p>“You don’t have to…”</p><p>She raised her finger to his lips.</p><p>“Christ,” he whispered against her. Poppy started to crouch down. “No, sweetheart. Don’t.”</p><p>“You don’t want me to?” Poppy whispered, straightening.</p><p>“Not here,” he whispered.</p><p>In truth, he desperately wanted her to. She’d never blown him.</p><p>But Christ, her dress was short and her knees were bare. He wasn’t going to let her to do that here, in a public bathroom. She was a fucking angel.</p><p>Hot as it’d be, he’d dragged her into enough darkness. If she wanted to give him <em>that</em> gift, it would be somewhere clean, and private.</p><p> “Can you just use your hands?” Tora whispered, arms around her. His dick ached, completely rigid and uncomfortably angled in the prison of his pants.</p><p>“Okay,” she said, a smile on her sweet face.</p><p> Tora fumbled at his pants, his cheeks flushed, though not so bright as the blush on Poppy’s paler skin. Then her hands helped him to ease his shaft out of his pants, their fingers meeting around his thick, veined shaft. Tora groaned and pulled her head against his chest as Poppy’s delicate grip began to stroke him.</p><p>He hated hiding. He hated not being able to see her in public. To have her on his arm. To call her sweetheart where other people could hear.</p><p>But tonight was proof: being with her was heaven, no matter where they were.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Interlude/Flashback</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey y'all. I hope you're all doing well. I'm sorry for the delay, and also to say that there will probably be another one after this post. TBH I've been going through some stuff irl. I set aside tonight to get out the next chapter but just couldn't manage figuring out plot and drama right now!</p><p>Still, I wanted to include something with this notice... so here's a silly little flashback to Poppy's POV about the accidentally sexual looking abstract painting she made for Tora a bunch of chapters back. With luck I'll have the actual next chapter soon, but all I can promise is I'm not dropping the story and will be back.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>Flashback for chapters 9/10</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Poppy stood on her rooftop with her easel. She sighed, her eyes resting on an empty spot of the wall. Beyond it: sunlight on the water, a distant silhouette of the city…</p><p>If anyone saw her, they’d surely have thought she was looking at the view.</p><p>But she was not. She was looking, rather, at what <em>wasn’t</em> there. At what <em>had been</em> there.</p><p>She was looking at exactly where Tora had lounged, leaning against the wall with her painting in his hand, when he’d called her pretty and they’d kissed for the first time.</p><p>Poppy shook her head at her own folly. With the faintest bit of color on her brush, she traced the line of the wall onto her canvas. She began to sketch in Tora’s figure, then frowned. Without a reference to work from, it was hard to get it right. Bits of him were burned into her: she couldn’t help but picture his golden eyes as clearly as if they were in front of her. Or the line of his broad shoulders.</p><p>Or…</p><p>She blushed, biting her lower lip. They were <em>just</em> friends. Just friends. And besides, Tora would never want a painting of that, would he? No, she was painting for herself, right now through and through. And she was <em>supposed</em> to be painting for him. With a scowl she pulled out her phone and started to search for ideas. Tora. What would Tora want? What did she think of, when she thought of him?</p><p>Sushi, at Alice’s? The steps where she’d brushed the hair away from his eyes? A nightscape, like at Regina’s peak, where the whole universe unfurled before them and they sat, above it all, gazing out like royals on a concrete throne?</p><p>No. All wrong. And she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. She wasn’t ready for a relationship. Even if he was a total cutie pie; even if he had a body fit for the raunchiest novels she’d ever read. Despite being intimidating, he had just a soft side. Saving her from a tree, helping her find Mr. Lam… if she ever <em>were</em> to date someone again…</p><p> But she wasn’t ready. And he’d made it clear they couldn’t play the in between. She had to respect that, respect his boundaries, and painting some romantic memory wasn’t going to help, was it?</p><p>“Geeze,” Poppy muttered.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and texted him.</p><p>
  <em>&gt;Hey, what did you want me to paint you?</em>
</p><p>She chewed her lip while waiting for a response. One minute passed, then another. She sat on the wall, waiting. Nothing came.</p><p>So he was busy. It didn’t mean anything.</p><p>She got up and fiddled with painting Tora’s face, spending too long on his eyes. But they weren’t right… they didn’t capture the way he… oh, geeze.</p><p>She blushed. She’s the one who chose <em>friends</em>. He wasn’t a piece of meat; so why couldn’t she get his naked body out of her head?</p><p>What was wrong with her?</p><p>But she was determined to be true to herself. She'd made herself a promise. She wasn’t going to buckle and jump into a relationship she wasn’t ready for, just because she’d found a man who made her weak in the knees, and.</p><p>Well. Other things.</p><p>She cleaned up and dragged her supplies downstairs. Poppy hid the half-finished painting of Tora behind a bookshelf.</p><p>Two hours later, Poppy lay on her floor. A mug of cooling tea sat beside her, an open book spread in front of her. She read idly on, only half-invested in the plot; the inner editor in her critiquing its flaws.</p><p>Her phone buzzed.</p><p>&gt;<em>Make it like the one that wasn’t anything, </em>Tora texted.</p><p>The one that wasn’t anything?</p><p>Her eyes flicked to the abstract painting sitting in the corner of her room.</p><p>&gt;<em>What, the one you said was a battlefield?</em></p><p>&gt;<em>Yeah</em></p><p>Poppy giggled.</p><p>&gt;<em>You don’t want something specific?</em> <em>I didn’t take you for an abstract art kind of guy.</em></p><p>&gt;<em>I like that it can be whatever you want it to be</em></p><p>Whatever you want it to be: Poppy liked the sound of that.</p><p>*</p><p>The next evening Poppy got out her painting supplies. She was indoors this time; it was late, and dark outside. Her favorite indie pop playlist blared, and a glass of cheap wine rested on the floor next to her easel: a small indulgence, bought with the surplus of what he’d paid her for the paintings.</p><p>She frowned at the blank sheet of watercolor paper in front of her and started mixing colors.</p><p><em>Whatever you want it to be</em>.</p><p>One thing Poppy liked about abstract painting; she didn’t have to think too much. She could just let it fall apart to instinct, and get lost in the process. It was like dancing.</p><p>A song she liked came on. She cranked up the music and bobbed her head. Swirled together a peachy tone and washed a shape on the right edge of the canvas. Wiped her brush; added a glimmer of gold.</p><p>Poppy’s mind drifted as she let her brush move.</p><p>It wasn’t just her feelings towards Tora that had her thinking again and again of what it was like to sleep with him.</p><p>And it wasn’t just his incomparable body. How high his tiger tattoo went. The V of his torso narrowing to the base of his rigid shaft. Arms like wrought iron. Golden eyes fixed on hers.</p><p>She added a sliver of green on the side of the painting, thinking of the leaves on his arm, the flowers of his tattoos.</p><p>No: it was the way he made her feel. Wanted, special. Beautiful. Like she was worth something. And more than an inconvenience.</p><p>And gosh… how good it had felt.</p><p>She smeared a line of pink down the middle of the painting. She wasn’t really paying attention to what she was doing. She let her mind wander as her cheeks reddened, a smile playing at her lips as her brush danced around her canvas, swirling through her water bowl and dipping into the arrangement of colors on her palette.</p><p>At a certain point instinct made Poppy take a few steps back and blink. She regarded the painting as a whole, which was entirely different from looking at it up close. From this distance she could see how it all came together.</p><p>She gulped.</p><p>And thought about everything on her mind, and how it had emerged on the paper in front of her.</p><p>But Tora wasn’t going to have a clue what she was thinking of, right? No, it was certainly fine. It was abstract, like he’d wanted, and the whole thing looked abstract--just because she had dirty thoughts on the mind, Tora would’t have a clue. Right? <em>Whatever you want it to be</em>. No, it only looked inappropriate to her because of…</p><p>Well. Because of what she wanted.</p><p>She tilted her head and then stepped closer and turned the painting upside down. She stepped back. Okay, better. That looked even less like… well, something… suggestive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Shark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>BRIEF RECAP: since the last plot update was 2 weeks ago (gah, sorry), I thought returning readers might benefit from a tiny refresher. </p><p>After sleeping together, Poppy tells Tora she isn’t ready for a relationship. They struggle with their feelings of attraction, briefly deciding to be ‘just friends’ before Tora decides he’s okay being intimate, even without the commitment from Poppy that he craves. But just as they’re happily settling into their new roles, Scharch breaks into Poppy’s apartment on Vincent’s orders. Tora and Quincey concoct a plan, tricking Vincent into believing that Poppy is Quincey’s girlfriend, in order to keep her safe—as Vin would otherwise have deemed her a ‘distraction’ to Tora, or worse, a way to control him. Tora also learns that Poppy’s missing broach, now in Vincent’s possession, is a Balthuman heirloom. Keeping their not-a-relationship secret, Tora and Poppy go with Quincey to a dark club, where they get frisky in the bathroom.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poppy’s delicate hands encircled Tora’s rigid cock, slowly rubbing along his curved length. He exhaled slowly, watching her grasp tighten on him. Just as slowly, Poppylan shifted and leaned against his iron chest. Her hands rubbed up over his rounded tip, then pressed back down, smearing a bead of precum across his head. He drew in a deep breath through his nose, breathing in air freshener and soap.</p><p>She licked her bottom lip, her cheeks still flushed rosily from how he’d made her cum.</p><p>Tora wrapped a muscular arm slowly around her shoulders, his other hand pressed flat against the wall as his breath caught in his throat. His eyes slid closed for a moment as pleasure lanced through him. His groan was so low that the distant thump of club music swallowed it entirely. Then his golden gaze fixed on her tender grasp again.</p><p>A sudden buzz in his pocket made him jerk forward. Poppy froze and blinked at him.</p><p>If they weren’t in the middle of a club bathroom, he’d wait and check it later. But putting off reality long enough to cum wasn’t a good idea, not when he and Poppy were technically ‘in public.’</p><p>“Sorry,” Tora growled, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. “Just gotta make sure…”</p><p>His fingers closed around it and pulled it out; Poppy still gripped him, her fingers loose now and trailing almost lazily up and down his length.</p><p>A text from Quincey:</p><p><em>Scharch is here.</em> And then, <em>I’m at the bar</em>.</p><p>“Christ,” Tora snapped, his thumbs itching for a moment to respond before he shut his phone off and jammed it back into his pocket. Slowly, reluctantly, he closed his large hands over Poppylan’s and peeled her off of him.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” she murmured, her sweet voice just loud enough for him to hear.</p><p>“Someone’s here. We gotta split.” He jerked his boxers and pants up, brain fumbling through his haze of arousal. They couldn’t leave the bathroom alone. And it might be better if he went first, to make sure she was safe, but even in the darkness of the club his hard-on wasn’t going to be invisible.</p><p>He buttoned his jeans over the eager, large rod, and groaned.</p><p>“Gimme ya phone,” Tora said. Poppy pawed through her clutch and handed it over. He opened their texts and typed <em>Quincey’s looking for you</em>—innocuous; if anyone saw it, they wouldn’t think the two of them had been together. He handed it back.</p><p>“What’s that for?” she asked.</p><p>“Don’t send it. Keep ya phone open. Quincey’s at the bar, you go right there. <em>Anything</em> happens before you get to him? You hit send faster’n you can fucking blink, okay? That way I know you need me.”</p><p>“Where are you going?” she whispered.</p><p>“Nowhere,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I’ll be a few minutes behind ya, that’s all. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly.</p><p>“When you find Quince, grab his arm or some shit, okay? Say you were looking for him. Or whatever. In case someone’s watching.”</p><p>“Okay,” Poppy repeated.</p><p>He tugged her tight dress a little lower down her thighs. Then impulse took over. Before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her tight against him, bending down to crush his lips against hers. Poppy panted as he released her, and then Tora slid open the door to their stall.</p><p>The main room was clear.</p><p>He held up a finger to her. Slid the door to their smaller room closed, and threw open the other bathroom doors to make sure they really were alone.</p><p>Nobody there.</p><p>He opened the door to Poppy again.</p><p>“Go. Quick,” he said. “Remember, keep your phone ready.”</p><p>She nodded and squeezed his hand, then vanished back into the club.</p><p>He stared at his hand a moment too long, then tightened it into a fist.</p><p>The moment she was gone he felt instant regret at his calculations. <em>He </em>should have gone first, hard-on be damned. He could’ve said he was just dancing with a stranger, or something. <em>He </em>should’ve gone, and scouted it out. What if she was in danger? What if it went wrong? His heart beat accelerated until he tasted a faint thread of bile in his throat, his mind racing as his throat seemed to close like a fist tightened around it.</p><p><em>I’m not afraid</em>, Tora told himself with an inner voice like iron. <em>Like fuck. I’m not afraid. </em></p><p>He sure as hell couldn’t go out now. It had only been a few seconds, half a minute. He’d called the play, and now he had to follow it.</p><p>She’d be fine.</p><p>He rearranged his manhood and then put his phone next to the sink, screen up, eyes locked to it as he splashed cold water on his face. Then he stared at himself in the mirror, his gaze watching the reflection of the phone. His screen stayed dark.</p><p>One minute had passed.</p><p>He paced the room, then locked himself in one of the stalls, then unlocked it.</p><p>Still kind of hard, but what could he do? He wasn’t about to jerk himself off to get rid of it. And the panic <em>was</em> helping. He'd never been less turned on. Every sense was screaming. He could feel the faint tremor of the building with the heavy club music. Could see the way the fluorescent bathroom lights cast harsh shadows.</p><p>Could taste his own sick, acidic fear, so unpleasant compared to the light, clean flavor of Poppy’s body.</p><p>Three minutes. Good enough. He couldn’t wait another second. Phone still in his hand, Tora slid back into the darkness of the club. Bodyguard mode: full alert. He didn’t go straight to the bar; better to take a little more time and approach from a different direction. Instead he worked his way around the perimeter of the club, and saw nothing amiss. Men moved away from the hulking, ice-cold mobster pushing his way through the crowd. Some women did the same; others drifted closer, eyes raking along the shadows of his muscular form.</p><p>No Scharch.</p><p>He approached the bar some twenty feet from where Poppy and Quincey stood, noting in a split-second her arm linked loosely through Quincey’s.</p><p>Sour, bitter envy settled in Tora’s stomach.</p><p>He stared resolutely ahead and nodded to the bartender. He ordered a strawberry juice.</p><p>“I like your hair,” a drunk blonde woman started to say. Tora angled his shoulder towards her, making it clear he wasn’t interested. He glanced back down at his phone, then put it away. He could still see Poppylan from here, albeit out of the periphery of his vision. It was a fight not to twist his neck to face her entirely, like she was a magnet drawing his gaze.</p><p>Another figure moved in the corner of his eye: Scharch was approaching. Not Poppy, not Quincey, but him. Tora pretended not to notice. Scharch drew closer, and then raised a hand to clap Tora’s shoulder.</p><p>Lightning fast, Tora’s hand snapped over his back to grab Scharch’s wrist.</p><p>“Don’t,” Tora said, dropping Scharch’s hand.</p><p>“Calm down, Tiger. I’m just saying hello,” Scharch said, rubbing his wrist and grinning. The creep slid onto one of the bar stools and raised a finger to call the bartender. “I never see you out unless the big boss says so,” Scharch said.</p><p>“Working,” Tora said, keeping his breath slow and measured as a way to prevent himself from smashing Scharch’s face in.</p><p>The image of Scharch ruffling through Poppy’s apartment rose unbidden to his mind. Tora fumbled for a cigarette and lit it slowly, then exhaled in Scharch’s face. Scharch smiled back, unfazed by the golden glare of the deadly man in front of him.</p><p>Nothing fazed Scharch, not really. Tora didn’t think the freak fucker even <em>cared</em> that Tora could kill him in a half second flat.</p><p>Nothing so dangerous as a man who didn’t fear death.</p><p>“What, bodyguarding for young master?” Scharch said. He turned to the bartender, who’d just appeared with Tora’s juice, and ordered a scotch. Then Scharch peered around Tora to inspect Poppy and Quincey down at the other end of the bar. “Juicy little thing on his arm, isn’t she? I heard she was yours before she was his. <em>That</em> must sting.”</p><p>Tora drew in a breath before responding.</p><p>“You keep repeating every rumor you hear, maybe I’ll put out my cigarette in your ear,” Tora said.</p><p>Scharch <em>giggled</em>.</p><p>“I miss your humor. Hey, it’s been a while since you and I did a job together,” the sadist said. “The tiger and the shark, out on the prowl. How about it? Bet we could make a… <em>killing.</em>”</p><p>“No,” Tora said, staring back at the bottles behind the bar. He flicked a bit of ash onto the bar counter and took a sip of his juice.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Tora could see Quincey dragging Poppy over. He didn’t move, but waited for the two of them to get closer.</p><p>“Tora!” Quincey whined from five feet away, as if Tora hadn’t noticed him. “<em>Hello</em>, <em>Tor-a,</em>” Quincey said, and snapped his fingers.</p><p>Tora turned away from Scharch, abandoning his drink, and strode to Quincey.</p><p>Poppy blushed and looked at him a little too long before turning her gaze back to the floor. She was gonna have to work on that: it didn’t matter in a place as dark as this; if Scharch <em>had</em> noticed, he wouldn’t have been sure what he’d seen. But that same lingering look in broad daylight was trouble.</p><p>That thought—<em>she has to work on that—</em>made Tora’s stomach twist. He <em>liked</em> that she wore her heart on her sleeve. <em>Liked</em> that she was open and full of feeling. Did she really have to change?</p><p>He was already changing her. The longer she stayed with him, the more she was going to change. And that was his fault.</p><p>“We’re ready to go home,” Quincey announced loudly, for Scharch’s benefit. “Go pull the car around.”</p><p>-</p><p>Tora lay in Quincey’s narrow guest bed, staring up at the ceiling. Light from the city sparkled through the balcony door to his right, casting a pale blue glow into the otherwise dark room.</p><p> The sheets were smooth as satin against his bare torso. He laced his fingers behind his head and sighed, his head still echoing with Quincey’s repeated awkward apologies for how he’d had to treat his bff/bodyguard, and Tora’s own inexpressive grunts of ‘s’fine’ and ‘shut up already.’ He wasn't mad, not at that. Quincey had only played the role they'd agreed on, and played it well.</p><p>His eyes flicked back to the glow of yellow light coming from around the guest bathroom doorframe, as the faucet turned on. He listened to Poppy rinse her mouth of toothpaste. The faucet turned off. The corners of his mouth twitched up at the sound of Poppylan yawning: such simple domestic bliss. Then came the click of the light switch, and the golden glow vanished from around the door.</p><p>She padded softly back to the bed and slid with a soft rustle beneath the sheets. Her soft, warm body curled up against his, and Tora hugged her against him, closing his eyes as the smell of her floral perfume gently filled him.</p><p>“You really okay with this, sweetheart?” he said after a moment of peaceful silence, his voice quiet, low, and husky.</p><p>It seemed like an awful lot of risk for someone she didn’t even want a relationship with.</p><p>“If I wasn’t, I’d tell you,” Poppy said. “Trust me, okay? If I change my mind I’ll let you know.”</p><p>He shifted, running a hand down her silky hair to skim down the curve of her side.</p><p>“You deserve better,” he muttered.</p><p>“So do you. Besides. Keeping it a secret isn’t so bad. The weird part is acting like I’m with Quincey.” He felt her scrunch up her face against the bare skin of his chest. “But it’s not like he’s creepy about it or anything. So it’s fine. Is his dad <em>really</em> that bad?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Off limits,” Tora muttered.</p><p>“Oh, come on, Tora. It’s my life now, too.”</p><p>“Yeah. That bad. Don’t ask me for details.”</p><p>“You grew up with him? Your whole life?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“What about your own family?”</p><p>With a sigh, he rolled her onto her back. “Can we change the fuckin’ subject?” Tora whispered softly, holding his body over hers.</p><p>She smiled. “What did you have in mind?”</p><p>He lowered himself to press softly on top of her, weight still supported on his elbows. Her mouth tasted like peppermint, and he explored her lips slowly as his cock throbbed and stiffened between them.</p><p>He pulled his mouth off hers for a moment, trailing his lips across her check and down her neck.</p><p>“Hey Tora? You asked me once if I wanted to go to the beach with you,” Poppy whispered.</p><p>“I did?” he pulled his face back and blinked down at her dimly-illuminated features.</p><p>“What, you don’t remember?” Her big eyes peered up at him, her hands laced around his neck. “It was when you were sick. You fell asleep on my lap…”</p><p>“Fuck, right. I remember. Why ya bringing that up now?” He was glad for the darkness, and how it covered the slight blush emerging on his cheeks.</p><p>“I want to go,” she said. “Will you still take me?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Workout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I want to go,” she said. “Will you take me?”</em>
</p><p>Tora took a deep breath, his weight split between Poppylan and his elbows. He hovered on her, crushed against her warmth, gazing down at the darkness of her wide eyes in the dim-lit room.</p><p>She wanted to go to the beach with him?</p><p>“What, <em>now</em>?” he joked, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly.</p><p>Heart thrumming, he bent his lips to hers and kissed her softly.</p><p>Poppy giggled and threaded her fingers through his long hair, pinching her lips together against a smile.</p><p>“I just meant sometime,” she murmured. “Anytime.”</p><p><em>Anytime</em>.</p><p>One of her hands threaded through to the end of his hair and trailed down his smooth, muscular back.</p><p>There was a lot Tora didn’t understand. He peered at her and considered one of his deficiencies: he’d never had a girlfriend. And he sure as hell’d never had a ‘friend’ like Poppy.</p><p>He wasn’t going to mess up what they had going. He wasn’t about to start asking her questions about what she wanted from him, or how she felt. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to start talking about his own feelings, even though he sometimes felt them bubbling up to his lips: a strange compulsion to reveal his affection that Tora—closed-lipped, moody, hitman Tora—had never felt before.</p><p>But she wanted to go to the beach with him. That was enough, probably. At least for now.</p><p>“Shit, why <em>not</em> now?” Tora mumbled. Poppy giggled, then drew in a breath. Her body lifted up against his as her lungs filled with air.</p><p>She bent up to meet his mouth, pulling her head away from the pillow and softly kissing him.</p><p>Well, <em>that </em>was a reason not to go. A reason not to leave the bed. He slipped a hand under her head, holding her mouth against his and deepening the kiss.</p><p>“Another time,” Tora amended as they broke briefly apart.</p><p>“Mhm,” Poppy agreed, her lips finding his again.</p><p>Her hands trailed down his waist, pulling his hips against her body. Poppy spread her legs wider and wrapped them around him, her fingers teasing at the elastic waistband of his boxers. Tora lost his breath for a moment, a low groan escaping him.</p><p>“Poppy, I…” words caught in his throat; the place between her legs ground up against his cock. “You’re fucking hot,” he mumbled, bending down to murmur in her ear.</p><p>“Thank you,” she moaned, hugging him down against her. Was that all she had to say?</p><p>“Nerd,” he whispered back, biting down a laugh.</p><p>“You’re hot too,” she whispered. Before he could answer, she pulled his head down to hers, holding him in place and kissing him deeply.</p><p>-</p><p>The next day he remembered fragments of the night before, each distinct memory enough to send shivers of desire through him.</p><p>Tora lay alone in the gym, feet flat on the floor as he reclined on the incline bench. His hands tightened on the barbell as it rested on the rack. About to do another rep, he hesitated as memories flitted across his mind.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Tora, kneeling upright as Poppy unrolled a condom over his hard cock, his hand stroking her narrow shoulders as he watched her.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Poppy’s first gasp of pleasure as he slid his thick shaft into her ready body, and his own answering groan of satisfaction. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Her full chest crushing up against him as she arched her back. Her eyes closed and her lips parted.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>With a grunt, he lifted the barbell off the rack and did a rep, lifting and raising it slowly, then repeating the movement. Tora glared at the ceiling. He paused with the barbell up in the air, his forearms trembling slightly under the immense weight as the memories continued.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Her fingers digging lightly into his back, as he drove himself inside her.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>He set the bar back on the rack, swallowing and breathing deeply as arousal bit into him. Tora’s shorts tightened slightly. Christ, could he have a moment’s peace from Poppy? No, his mind was relentless; she was always on it. Obsessed.</p><p>He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>How his jaw clenched tight as he dug his feet into the mattress, his hips snapping forward as he hammered away at her. How pleasure flooded his mind, nearly blacking out his vision, narrowing the focus of the world to just the two of them, to her, to how her body felt under him, around him...</em>
  </p>
  <p><em>Harder, faster. And her nails, digging deeper into his back—</em>that <em>he barely remembered, apart from one moment of surprise at the beginning, that such a sweet little hamster could be so effective at mixing pain and pleasure.</em></p>
</blockquote><p>Christ.</p><p>His hand slid under his waistband and wrapped around his full cock, grateful nobody else used the gym. Tora fumbled for his phone, pulling up a picture he’d snapped of Poppy, standing next to Quincey for deniability; he zoomed in so the screen only showed her; she looked levelly at him, smiled, her rosy lips tilted up, her curvaceous body angled towards him.</p><p>He thought about last night as his hand eased up his length, then back down.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Hugging her up against him, both breathing hard, as he buried his shaft entirely inside her and came…</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>And then Poppylan’s own shock, afterwards, at seeing the red lines she’d clawed on his back, and how she’d buried her head against him and apologized endlessly as he laughed at her and called her feisty, told her he’d liked it… and asked if she’d go with him to the beach tomorrow night.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Because at night, in the dark, nobody would be on the beach. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>They wouldn’t need Quincey. He could just take her, alone, like a real date.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>“It’s a worknight!” Poppy had protested, and he’d kissed her forehead, and called her a nerd.</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Glaring at him, she’d relented. </em>
  </p>
  <p><em>“It’s a… plan,” he said, catching himself just before the word </em>date <em>could slip from between his lips. </em></p>
</blockquote><p><em>Tonight</em>. So tonight they’d go. Hours away, still; it was early afternoon, bright outside; Poppy still working. He squeezed his hand tighter around himself. Then he jerked up as his phone buzzed, slipping out of his grasp and clattering against the floor.</p><p>Tora let go of himself and lunged for the phone, fingers grazing the floor. His cheeks burned. He opened the offending message.</p><p><em>We have a problem</em>, read Quincey’s text.</p><p><em>What</em>? Tora answered. He bent forward, resting his forearms on his knees and trying to pretend he wasn’t about to jerk off. He cleared his throat and squinted at the screen.</p><p><em>He wants to meet her. Dad.</em>, Quincey texted.</p><p>Tora’s heart skipped a beat. He started at the screen, his fingers still as a corpse’s, head unable to wrap around the words. Then another text.</p><p>
  <em>I tried saying no. He’s insisting.</em>
</p><p>And another text, before Tora could move.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t think we can get out of it.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Beach I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading, hope y'all like it!</p><p>IT MAY BE OBVIOUS FROM THIS CHAPTER THAT I HAVE SOME FEELINGS ABOUT THE OCEAN</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They arrived at the ocean an hour after sunset, when the days’ last light had already sunken below the infinite horizon.</p><p>He knew he had to tell her about meeting Vincent, but he’d do it later. On the way home from the beach, maybe. Quincey had arranged a full week to prepare, and Tora wasn’t ready to ruin the night just yet.</p><p>Tora knew this stretch of beach well. It was isolated and pristine, even now, decades later. The scruffy dunes and jagged rocks had not fallen prey to the same flux of development that had claimed so much of the country.</p><p>And even now—almost twenty years later, after countless trips—he still remembered the first time. He’d repeated the memory to himself so many times that what he recalled now was little more than a distorted echo of the past.</p><p>“It feels so weird going to the beach at night,” Poppy said quietly. The soft smile on her mouth evidenced that she had no idea what was going on in Tora’s head.</p><p>“Ya ever see the ocean at dark?” Tora asked gruffly. He reached down by his foot for the trunk lever, scrounging around until he found it.</p><p>It wasn’t his usual car. He’d “borrowed” one to prevent anybody from recognizing him when he showed up at Poppylan’s apartment, and told her that it belonged to a friend.</p><p>Small lies. Harmless lies.</p><p>“I’ve seen sunset,” Poppy offered. “But since the drive wasn’t bad, we never spent the night.”</p><p>“Hm,” Tora grunted. He opened the door; she did the same.</p><p>The smell of brine hit him as strong as it always did, flooding his body with the strange elixir of the ocean. Wind, whipping wind; the air here was <em>alive</em>.</p><p>Even at a young age, with Martin twisting his wrist until it hurt, cynical Tora had believed the ocean was nothing short of magic: the closest this world got to being <em>other</em>. Who knew what hid beneath the waves? The ocean was endless, and powerful, and held some distant promise of escape.</p><p>Now, he squeezed his eyes shut as his dark hair lashed at his face. His nimble fingers wrenched his hairtie off his messy half-bun. He slid the elastic over his wrists and gathered his hair entirely back, where the wind could no longer use it to attack him.</p><p>A glance at Poppylan, over the roof of the silver car. She was watching him, her hair already tamed into two long braids.</p><p>“So, whatcha bring?” Tora asked, ambling to the trunk and lifting out Poppy’s <em>I’m sexy and I know it</em> bag. The distant crash of the waves, a short walk away, was audible but not overpowering.</p><p>“Don’t tell me you’re hungry already!” Poppy said, looking nothing short of alarmed. He blinked at her.</p><p>“So?” he said. “I’m six foot three. A guy needs to eat.”</p><p>“You love bringing that up, don’t you,” Poppy muttered. She reached for the straps of the bag to take it from him.</p><p>Tora pulled it back.</p><p>“Uh-uh,” he informed her. He reached into the trunk again to get out the blanket Poppy had packed for their picnic.</p><p>“C’mon,” Poppy said. “We had a deal. You handle the wheels, I handle the food.”</p><p>“You handled it. I’m fuckin’ carrying it.”</p><p>“That’s not…”</p><p>“’Wheels’ is transportation. We’re still transporting.”</p><p>“Tora, c’mon.”</p><p>“Oh, you wanna carry it?” Tora asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Poppy said patiently, reaching again for the bag.</p><p>He flipped the blanket over his shoulder and lifted the bag above her head.</p><p>“Hey,” Poppy said, standing on her tip toes.</p><p>“What? Just take it,” Tora said.</p><p>“You’re such a <em>corn nut</em>,” Poppy said, scrunching up her face and sticking her tongue at him.</p><p>“A <em>what?”  </em>Tora asked. </p><p>“A… c’mon, let me carry it!”</p><p>“You can carry it if you can take it from me,” Tora said smugly.</p><p>Like hell was he letting his hamster carry the bag.</p><p>“Tora,” Poppy huffed. She closed the gap between them, ignoring the bag, and grabbed him by the front of his sweater. “You’re a sweetie, you know that?”</p><p>“I…” he gulped.</p><p>She pulled him down and kissed him, long and slow.</p><p>His heart skipped a beat. His arm lowered a little. The free hand wrapped around Poppy, pulling her warm body closer against his.</p><p>Before he knew what was happening, Poppy pried the bag’s straps out of his limp fingers.</p><p>“Fucking Christ, Poppy,” he snapped, impressed by her use of misdirection. “Never told me you were a goddamned pickpocket.”</p><p>“Deal with it,” she said with a smile. “Now, where to?”</p><p>He glowered for a moment, then struck on inspiration. Lighting fast, Tora bent and scooped her into his arms. That way they both won.</p><p>“Hey!” Poppy giggled.</p><p>“This way,” Tora said smoothly, and carried her towards the shore.</p><p>-</p><p>The ocean at night was something else entirely, that was sure. An endless black expanse. The void of the night sky met the void of the seascape so neatly the human eye could not pick the two apart. Above hung a billion bright stars; below ranged an expanse of silver-painted waves, beating endlessly against the packed sand shore with all the fury of an ancient god.</p><p>The moon waxed gibbous, near entirely full, only a sliver obscured by darkness. It cast the world into two colors, and two colors only: all was black or moonlight.</p><p>There was nothing else.</p><p>They spread the blanket a little ways back from the water, where the sand was soft and dry.</p><p>“Is it high tide or low?” Poppy asked, slipping off her shoes.</p><p>“Fuck if I know,” Tora informed her.</p><p>“Think there are shells?” Poppy asked. She pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight function.</p><p>“You wanna look for shells? Ya serious? It's dark out.”</p><p>“Of course,” Poppy informed him. “You can’t go to the beach and <em>not</em> look for shells.”</p><p>“Christ,” he muttered. “Can I at least get something to eat?”</p><p>“Later,” Poppy said, her blush invisible in the two-tone landscape of the night.</p><p>Tora muttered under his breath, but obediently trailed after her.</p><p>“Look,” she said, reaching the water. She grabbed a cracked miniature conch shell and held it triumphantly to Tora.</p><p>“That one’s broken,” he told her, fighting back a smile.</p><p>“Whatever,” Poppy said airily. She tucked it into her pocket, and Tora crouched and tried to find one to give her.</p><p>He picked up a split scallop shell, its right edge missing entirely, and held it up against the moon.</p><p>He chucked it as far as it could. It arced into darkness. His eye lost sight of it long before it hit the waves.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Beach II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For those few still reading this story sorry for the short update</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here,” Tora said.</p><p>Poppy looked over at him. The wind tugged long strands of hair free from her braids, whipping around her face. He watched her approach, the side of her face illuminated by the silver glow of the moon.</p><p>He held the shell out to her like an offering, feeling strangely embarrassed—would she like it?</p><p>She took it from him.</p><p>“For me?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>The next wave that came was a big one. It lunged further up the shore than the others, a cold shock lapping at their bare feet. Poppy squealed, jumping back. Tora chuckled; he couldn’t help it.</p><p>“Stop laughing at me,” she said, her hand still wrapped around the shell.</p><p>“I’m not,” he insisted.</p><p>“You totally laughed.”</p><p>“Can’t help it if you’re cute,” he mumbled. “Look, can we eat? I’m fucking starving.”</p><p>“Right now?” Poppy said. She gulped and put her hand on the back of her neck, peering up at him. “Um, I just thought we could walk, or…”</p><p>“Sure,” Tora said. “But you gotta feed me first.”</p><p>She nodded and spun, hurrying back to the blanket and the bag. Tora frowned and followed slowly. What the hell was the big deal? Why the hell bring food if you weren’t going to eat it?</p><p>Poppy knelt at the bag and fumbled with the zipper. Tora blinked and watched her.</p><p>“You cook something nasty or some shit?”</p><p>“What? C’mon, of course not,” she said. She opened the bag as he sat down next to her. She pulled out a stack of containers and set them onto the blanket. Tora reached for the top one.</p><p>A small gasp left Poppy’s mouth. She lunged forward, grabbing Tora’s face and planting her lips against his.</p><p><em>The fuck</em>? His instincts normally wouldn’t keep him sitting still as someone lunged for his face, but he froze as Poppy fell against him. She sat back slowly, hands on his chest, clearing her throat.</p><p>“You trying to distract me?” he muttered. His lips were warm, and buzzed slightly.</p><p>“I would never,” she said.</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Bobby, the hell’s going on?”</p><p>“Nothing,” she said, her voice high.</p><p>“C’mon,” he said, running his hand down her side. “You’re acting weird.”</p><p>“Just don’t open that one, okay?” she said.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Just don’t,” she said.</p><p>“…fine,” Tora grumbled. Maybe he’d just look later when she wasn’t looking.</p><p>She started to sit up; he tightened his hand around her waist to keep her there. Poppy pursed her lips.</p><p>“Food, or this?” she asked him.</p><p>“Both.”</p><p>She gave him a look.</p><p>“Food,” he said, reluctantly. He was damned starving. She pushed herself off him entirely and put the top box back into the bag, then opened the next one. She presented it to him. He squinted down at the rice shapes.</p><p>“What is that?” he asked.</p><p>“Seriously? I took my time with these ones!”</p><p>“Hold on.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and shone it on them. A tiger and a small rodent—hamster? “Cool. Yeah.”</p><p>“You like them?”</p><p>“Of course,” he said.</p><p>She put the container down, then opened the others. He took a strawberry and bit into it, then accepted a can of juice from her with a smile.</p><p>Poppy picked up the hamster and nibbled on one of the ears, then froze.</p><p>“What?” Tora asked.</p><p>“Just don’t…” she slowly put the hamster back down, then squared her shoulders. “Don’t laugh at me, okay?”</p><p>“Can’t promise that,” Tora told her.</p><p>“Tora…”</p><p>“Fine,” he said. “What is it?”</p><p>“Just… here.” She reached into the bag with a shaking hand, and lifted out the metal box, handing it to him.</p><p>He put down the strawberry leaves, nibbled up to the base, and took it from her silently. He pried the lid off the box. A paper airplane sat inside.</p><p>“You really can’t stop trying to give my shit back to you, can you?” he asked.</p><p>“What? No, it’s… just read it, okay?” Poppy buried her face in her hands.</p><p>“You really determined not to let me eat, huh?” Tora joked. He unfolded it and used his phone to illuminate it.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. [illustration]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dang y'all. I've been kind of insecure about this fic because with life being 100% hectic, I only get to work on it 1-2 times a week and bang out a chapter and post immediately--hard to reread old chapters, get into the flow, etc., so I was worried it was choppy and really didn't know so many people WERE still reading and enjoying it. Your comments all warmed my heart and I am so appreciative of you all! I'll try to have the next chapter out soon (sorry for the cliffhanger) but I made this illustration while sitting in my classes as a lil thank you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Beach III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>-waggles eyebrows- enjoy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Letter in one hand, phone in the other. He looked down at her bubbly handwriting. If Tora were any less of a stoic his hand would be shaking. As it was his throat felt tight, thick with emotion.</p><p></p><blockquote>
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    <em>Tora,</em>
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    <em>I’m really nervous, so I’m writing this down because I know I’ll chicken out otherwise. I’ve never asked someone to be my boyfriend before. I’ve liked you since I met you and every day I like you a little more. I know I’m the one who said we should just be friends, but I’m finally ready. Please tell me I’m not too late. </em>
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</blockquote><p>He couldn’t make sense of what he’d read. He blinked and read it again as his heart stopped, then lurched forward.</p><p>She was asking him out?</p><p>For real?</p><p>Tora’s hand tightened on the letter, crumpling the paper. He froze and lightened his grip, trying to smooth it back out. Slowly his eyes raked up the words and to her shadowed face.</p><p>Poppy peered at him between her fingers, her shoulders high and tight.</p><p>“Well?” she squeaked.</p><p>“I…” he turned his phone’s screen off and slid it into his pocket, then slowly folded the paper back into an airplane, frowning at it.</p><p>Poppy was waiting for him to say something.</p><p>Of course he wanted to say yes; his whole damned body was screaming <em>yes</em>. She was what he’d wanted, all he wanted. All he'd wanted her since the first time he saw her. He hadn’t <em>stopped</em> wanting her, not for a moment.</p><p>And she wanted him--? Even like this, even with all the hiding and the secrecy and the lies?</p><p>And Vincent. She was supposed to meet Vincent. She didn’t even know about that. How could he say <em>yes</em>, just to pick her up and toss her into the wolf’s den?</p><p>“Yes,” he croaked anyways. Because what else could he say?</p><p>“Yes?” Poppy whispered back, lowering her hands from her face.</p><p>Tora nodded. Slowly, with measured restraint, he placed the paper airplane back into the box and set the lid back onto it.</p><p>“Yes I’m too late? Or yes…” Poppy whispered, desperately seeking his flat expression for some sign of meaning.</p><p>He exhaled sharply and turned his body to face her, his golden eyes boring into her.</p><p>“Poppylan,” Tora said. He cupped her cheek with one hand, and bent to her. Their lips connected. His mouth parted, pushing against hers as he leaned over her. Then he’d pushed her back flat onto the blanket, spreading her legs and crushing down onto her as a desperate need to possess her filled him. </p><p>“Wait,” she said, pressing against his chest. He pulled his lips away obediently. “I, um. I’m going to need you to be really clear, okay? With your words. Are you… I mean, are we…”</p><p>“Poppy,” he said again, as a fire engulfed his heart. <em>His</em>. She wanted to be his. Was willing to be his. Had <em>asked </em>to be his.</p><p>He was already hers. He had been for some time.</p><p>“Tora…”</p><p>He licked his lips and drew in a breath, his face still inches above hers, her body warm and accommodating under his weight.</p><p>“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said.</p><p>“Then I am,” she said, and started to pull him back down. This time it was Tora who resisted.</p><p>“But—” he said, hating the word. “But you know how fuckin’ hard things are, right? And Quincey’s dad wants to meet you.”</p><p>“What’s that got to do with it?” she said.</p><p>“Nothing, I guess,” he grumbled. “But I can’t say yes unless I know ya really… I know it’s a fucked up situation, and you deserve better. You really wanna move forward with me? Knowing how it is?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy said. “Of course I wish things were different. And I can’t say I’m not a little scared, sometimes. But life is never perfect, Tora. And I believe in love.”</p><p>“Love?” he said, staring directly into her eyes.</p><p>“I <em>didn’t</em> mean… can we forget I said that?” Poppy mumbled back.</p><p>He couldn’t forget, but he nodded. Poppy drew in a deep breath and kept talking.</p><p>“I just mean, I’m not going to give up on a guy I care about just because his life is complicated, okay? You might be mixed up in bad stuff, but I know how good of a person you are.”</p><p>He ignored that. She had no clue what kind of a person he was.</p><p>“So you really wanna be my girlfriend?” Tora asked.</p><p>“Yes,” she said, softly. She leaned up to kiss him.</p><p>Tora was better with his body than with words, and he had never felt like this before. Nothing doing but that he could show her how he felt. He deepened the kiss, hungrily moving his lips against hers, then trailing his lips down her cheek. He slid himself to her neck, kissing her at the base of her jaw before lightly closing his teeth around her earlobe. Poppy gasped. His mouth traced down to the opening of her sweater. He dug two fingers around the neck and pulled it down so he could kiss her collarbone.</p><p>“I thought you were hungry,” Poppy moaned, sliding her fingers across his shoulders and gripping his biceps through his hoodie.</p><p>“I am,” Tora said.</p><p>“Then we should eat, and…”</p><p>Tora covered her lips with his own again, interrupting her sentence. The kiss was long; he let his lips stay brushing against hers as he responded to her.</p><p>“Different kind of hungry,” he informed her.</p><p>“I don’t want to have sex on the beach,” Poppy whispered back. “The, um. Sand. You know.”</p><p>He pushed himself up to his elbows, regarding her from a distance of a few inches.</p><p>“The car?” Tora suggested.</p><p>“Right now? You want to pack all this up and go back to the car just so we can…?” Poppy asked.</p><p>He shrugged but said nothing, still looking down at her. <em>That's my girlfriend</em>, he couldn't help but think. A pleasant thought, but utterly surreal and foreign. <em>Girlfriend. </em></p><p>“I mean, we could eat and <em>then </em>go to the car,” Poppy said.</p><p>“I want you,” he informed her. “But if you don’t wanna…”</p><p>“Of course I want to,” she mumbled.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Pretty much always,” Poppy admitted. “You’re kind of intoxicating.”</p><p>“Hm,” Tora said. He reluctantly pushed himself off her, then started tossing boxes of food back into the bag.</p><p>“Guess I didn’t need to bring a whole picnic,” Poppy said.</p><p>“I’m still gonna eat it,” Tora replied, his voice deceptively even against his growing lust. “Just gonna eat <em>you</em>, first.”</p><p>“Oh,” Poppy said, her blush invisible in the darkness.</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Cramped Spaces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Smut-pocalypse? Smut-mas? Smuts-giving? I don't know but this is like 4k+ words of smut so it's SOMETHING. Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora tossed the food and blanket on the driver’s seat, then opened the backseat of the car. Poppy climbed in and sat facing forward with her legs together, like a passenger. He climbed in afterwards. She glanced sideways at him and bit the bottom of her lip.</p><p>“Your friend really won’t mind?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The one you borrowed the car from?”</p><p>“Nah,” Tora said, clearing his throat. “We’re good.”</p><p>She nodded and angled herself towards him, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. Something in her closed expression still seemed uncertain.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Tora said, after a moment of hesitation.</p><p>He really wanted to fuck her. But the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her in any way. He had already been more protective of her than of just about anybody else—Quincey was a possible, but doubtful, exception—but her new status as girlfriend-of-five-minutes filled his chest with an even stronger need to keep her happy and safe.</p><p>“Just, um… I’m nervous about, you know. Taking off our clothes. What if somebody shows up?” Poppy looked wide-eyed at him. “I mean, we’re practically in public.”</p><p>Tora blinked at her.</p><p>Considering the car was stolen and that Vincent would probably kill him if the crime lord found out any of this, being seen naked was the <em>least</em> of his concerns about getting caught. But they were parked in a remote area, well after dark. Nobody was going to come out here.</p><p>“Nobody’s gonna see us,” he told her. “But if you wanna go home…”</p><p>“No,” she said quickly. “But could we stay clothed? Or, mostly clothed?”</p><p>“We can do whatever you want.”</p><p>Poppy nodded and smiled.</p><p>“Then I want you,” she reassured him. She reached out to him, pulling him towards her by his arm. Tora obliged, scooting closer and pulling her half onto his lap with his arms around her.</p><p>He eased one hand slowly under her sweater, slipping his calloused fingers between her heavy knit covering and the thin t-shirt beneath.</p><p>“Can I take this off of ya?” he murmured, bending down as she tilted her face up to meet his.</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy whispered, before pressing her lips against his. He let the kiss consume him as blood thundered through his body. Her weight against his lap was particularly tantalizing. In the confined space of the car, he no longer smelled the briny sea air. Instead he smelled Poppy, her perfume like flowers and sugar and spring.</p><p>He started to pull the sweater off of her. Poppy leaned away from him and gripped it by the hem, pulling it over her head and mussing her braided hair. She tossed it onto the front seat. Turning towards Tora, she straddled him.</p><p>Tora’s breath caught in his throat. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her again. Her lips seemed as hungry as his now, all hesitation gone as she moved her body against his. His mind buzzed with arousal.</p><p>His hands had minds of their own. Without thinking about it, he found his grip sliding underneath her plain t-shirt. He traced the satin outline of her bra, then fought his way beneath the underwire to caress her breasts.</p><p>Poppy tugged at his hoodie. Reluctantly he let go of her and helped take it off.</p><p>“Are you really my boyfriend?” Poppy said suddenly.</p><p>He tossed the hoodie towards the front seat and frowned at her.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.</p><p>“It just doesn’t feel real yet,” she said. “Too good to be true.”</p><p>Tora blushed.</p><p>“Yeah, well,” he grumbled.</p><p>“You’re way too gorgeous,” Poppy murmured. She traced the neck of his shirt with a finger. Where she touched felt like fire, his skin blazing in response to her touch.  </p><p>“I think that’s <em>my</em> line, sweetheart,” he murmured.</p><p>He stared into her eyes, then lost control and found his gaze inching down, to her own—considerably lower and more interesting—neckline.</p><p>Awkwardly—it was hard to maneuver in the car—he pushed her off his lap and onto her back. Poppy lay across the back seat, leaning up slightly against the door. Bending uncomfortably over her, Tora worked open the button of her pants. He sat sideways, one leg bent under him and the other down on the car floor. The pose was awkward. Like an itch that just got worse if you didn’t address it, his discomfort built.</p><p>“Goddamnit,” Tora snapped as he finally got the button undone.</p><p>“What?” Poppy said.</p><p>“I’m too tall for this bullshit,” he complained. It was hard to seduce her in such a confined area.</p><p>“Do you wanna stop, or…” Poppy asked.</p><p>“Hell no,” he said. “Just…” exhaling in frustration, he leaned over the center console and reached for the base of the front passenger seat. With a grunt of exertion, Tora found the lever and yanked the seat forward, freeing another foot of space in the back of the car. He did the same to the driver’s seat, then turned back to Poppy.</p><p>She lay propped up on the back seat, biting back a laugh, her jeans unbuttoned.</p><p>“What’re you laughing at, shorty?” he growled.</p><p>“Nothing,” she said, and pushed herself upright. He leaned towards her to kiss her, then trailed a hand down her chest and towards her jeans zipper.</p><p>“Can I take <em>these</em> off ya?” Tora asked, his voice low.</p><p>“Um… maybe just partway?” she said.</p><p>He eased her jeans over her ass and down a few inches. Knowing she wanted to stay as clothed as possible (though this was entirely opposite every instinct he had), he left her panties in place. He eased them to the side with his fingers, so he could access her center without leaving her entirely bare.</p><p> Bending over her, Tora kissed her gently while running his fingers slowly up and down the outside of her pussy. Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck as a small noise of satisfaction escaped her lips.</p><p>He kissed his way down her body, folding his legs until he was curled up and wedged uncomfortably between the front and back seat, running his tongue over her ripe opening.</p><p><em>Next time I’m ‘borrowing’ a bigger fuckin’ car</em>, he thought. He peered up at Poppy, who looked down at him at let out a soft moan.</p><p>He probed at her clit with his tongue, pushing himself gently against her tight-closed legs. He could tell she was already a little turned on; could taste her arousal. He was too; his pants were tight against his erection.</p><p>But he was equal parts frustrated. His long legs already felt like they were cramping, and his neck complained loudly about the awkward angle he’d put it in to try and pleasure her.</p><p>If Poppy was as uncomfortable, she didn’t show it.</p><p><em>Course not</em>, he thought. <em>‘Cuz she’s five foot nothing. She’s made for shit like this</em>.</p><p>Even if his damned neck snapped and his back gave out, he wasn’t going to let it get in the way.</p><p>He was going to make his girlfriend cum, and he was going to fuck her, and that was that. He wasn’t going to give her any room to regret asking him out, no. He was going to make sure she was satisfied, fully satisfied.</p><p>After all, that was why she liked him, wasn’t it? Because he made her feel good. Why else would an angel like her—but that was a line of thought he didn’t care to go down.</p><p>Not just now, when he had everything he wanted.</p><p>Not just now, when his sole purpose was to satisfy her.</p><p>With that thought driving him forward, he slid a finger into her tight opening—even tighter than normal, with her jeans holding her legs together—and sucked gently at her clit. Poppy buried her hands into his hair and closed her eyes.</p><p>His leg cramped. Tora’s eyebrows knotted together.</p><p><em>Fight through it</em>, he told himself. And for a moment longer he did, rubbing a bit too roughly at Poppy’s little clit with his nimble tongue, before at last tossing his head back.</p><p>“Jesus mother fucking christ,” Tora snapped. Poppy jerked forward.</p><p>“Are you okay?” she asked, eyes wide.</p><p>“Damn it,” Tora growled. He twisted around to grab the handle of the door. Releasing the latch, he kicked the door open and straightened his legs.</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy’s voice quivered. “<em>Are</em> you okay? You sound really mad?”</p><p>“What? I’m not mad.” He faced her, then forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’m not built for small spaces. Sorry. For freaking you out.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” she said, her eyes still telling a story of worry.</p><p>He sighed and licked the clean taste of her off his lips, then looked out the open door into the dark expanse. Then back at Poppy’s crotch, then up at Poppy’s face.</p><p>“If your panties stay on,” he bargained, “can I take off ya pants?”</p><p>“What if someone…”</p><p>“Nobody’s gonna see,” he said, his voice unintentionally rough.</p><p>“But they…”</p><p>“Here,” Tora said. He grabbed his hoodie from the front and offered it to her. “You’re so tiny it’ll be like a dress on ya. Keep you covered if something <em>does</em> happen.”</p><p>She considered this.</p><p>“Deal,” Poppy said. She pulled the hoodie over her head, pausing to bury her face in it.</p><p>“Did you just smell my hoodie?” Tora asked.</p><p>“Shut up,” Poppy muttered. He grinned and got out of the car. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“Nowhere,” he said. He pulled her towards the door, easing off one of her shoes and then the other. Then he tugged off her pants as Poppy giggled and propped herself up on her elbows.</p><p>He’d much rather have her naked, obviously, but he had to admit he liked how she looked in his hoodie, her legs naked and spread for him.</p><p><em>She’s mine</em>.</p><p>The thought, simple though it was, was still enough to bring color to his tan cheeks.</p><p>He tossed her pants onto the front seat and knelt on the hard gravel ground, pulling Poppy’s bare legs onto his shoulders, her ass still resting on the car’s backseat.</p><p>“That doesn’t look comfortable,” she murmured, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers in with his. He stared at their hands, and smiled, and looked at her worried expression.</p><p>“Hell of a lot more comfortable than being stuck in a box,” he said.</p><p>He peeled her underwear, wet with her arousal, to the side again.</p><p>Tora’s mouth found her pussy. Poppy moaned this time, suddenly; he had a better angle now, and more attention for her. He tightened the hand holding hers, and held her body in place with the other.</p><p>She locked her ankles behind his head and squeezed her thighs together, half-crushing him. Tora hummed his own pleasure against her clit, sucking and rubbing her as she bucked gently against him. The cloth edge of her panties pushed against his cheek; for a moment he got a mouthful of cotton as they snapped back over her opening. With a muffled sound of annoyance he yanked them sideways again and dug his tongue inside of her.</p><p>Poppy let out a scream, then dragged her hand away from his to muffle herself. She moaned again, loudly, into the palm of her hand.</p><p><em>Shit</em>. How was she do damn hot? How was he supposed to focus on making her feel good when he was harder than he’d ever been, when the need to bury his dick in that tight little pussy had all but taken over his mind?</p><p>Kissing at her, lips moving against her, tongue tracing her, Tora let his hands wander lower. To himself.</p><p>Poppy held herself in place, her thighs still clenched around him. He wanted to keep touching her, but his need was desperate. He unbuttoned his own jeans and shoved them down. With a hum of relief, Tora closed a fist around the base of his shaft, rubbing up and down his own big dick as Poppy whimpered and pushed herself against his mouth.</p><p>He kept jerking himself one handed. His other hand lifted back up to squeeze her ass, then grab her hip, then slide beneath hoodie and shirt to grope at one of her tits.</p><p>He moaned, his lips buzzing against her as his eyes squeezed shut tightly.</p><p>His hand slicked over a bead of precum, wetting the head of his shaft. His other hand tightened on her warm body. His tongue maneuvered in circles around her nub of pleasure.</p><p>“Tora,” Poppy moaned.</p><p>She shook against him, her legs trembling as she squeezed. He pulled his lips back for a moment to drag in a deep breath of air. Desperately, he let go of her chest and slicked his fingers inside her wet opening, fucking her with his hand as he gasped for air and relaxed his jaw.</p><p>Poppy kept one leg over his shoulder; the other fell to the side, resting on the lip of the car’s opening as her hips bucked up against his drenched knuckles. He moaned and bent his head down to her again, sucking at her clit once more as his fingers pumped her. She cried out, her back arching up off the seat of the car. She was utterly drenched, and warm, and tight.</p><p>He wanted to be inside her so badly.</p><p>Tora tightened his hand around his cock and fucked his closed fingers, driving his own hips forward in desperation.</p><p>He needed to fuck <em>her</em>, needed to be in <em>her</em>. But not until she came. Once he was in her there was no guarantee he’d last; he’d do his best, but he was just too damn turned on by her.</p><p>She was close. He could tell she was close.</p><p>He resisted the urge to speed up his hand. Poppy’s breathing was fast and shallow now, little whimpers fighting out of her mouth as he worked her.</p><p>And then she lost it altogether. She moaned loudly; the sound cut off halfway through, her parted lips forming a silent shape. Her body tensed and then slowly sank down, utterly relaxed. He sucked at her clit a moment longer, then turned his lips to kiss the inside of her thigh.</p><p>“Did you cum?” he asked her, voice ragged.</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy whispered.</p><p>“Can I fuck you?” he asked, his tone desperate and begging.</p><p>“C’mere,” Poppy murmured, her voice soft and relaxed. She pushed herself up and scooted back. He crawled onto the seat, his knees stinging from how long he'd knelt on the gravel. Tora started to climb on top of her, but she pushed him back into a sitting position, his feet flat on the ground and his head resting on the headrest.</p><p>Was she going to ride him? He reached for her, to pull her onto his lap, but she had her own plans. Poppy pulled his jeans lower, until they were around his ankles, so she could widen his seat. She settled between his legs, her back resting against the back of the front seat.</p><p>“What?” Tora whispered, tracing his fingers down the side of her cheek.</p><p>His cock was straining to be held. His free hand wrapped around it, and then Poppy’s hands were there, taking hold of him.</p><p>“I want to try this,” she whispered.</p><p>And then she leaned forward. He could put together what was happening, but still stared in disbelief as her lips wrapped around the tip of his shaft.</p><p>“Ohh,” Tora exhaled softly. He leaned back harder against the seat and narrowed his eyes, but kept them fixed on Poppy. “Shit, Poppy. You…”</p><p>She pulled her lips off of him and delicately licked him, running her tongue from the base of his full member up to the tip.</p><p>“You don’t have to…” Tora croaked. He tightened his hands into her hair, not knowing where else to put them.</p><p>“I want to,” Poppy said. She closed her lips over him again and then lowered her mouth down his length. Further, further. Bit by bit. At last she’d taken in as much of him as she could. Slowly she lifted her head again, then lowered it. A low groan escaped Tora’s lips. Unable to help himself he at last let his eyes close. His head leaned back, lips parted. Poppy lifted her mouth again, then back down, her hands rubbing up and down in time with her lips.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora moaned. “Holy fuck.”</p><p>Poppy ground her mouth down a little further, then pulled off him.</p><p>“Does it feel alright?” she asked.</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he mumbled.</p><p>She kissed his cock. He opened his eyes again and stared down at her, his heart lurching as he fought against the urge to thrust his shaft into her mouth. Gentle; he had to be gentle.</p><p>Peering up at him she lowered herself back down. His breath caught in his throat.</p><p>“You’re way too fucking good at this,” he muttered.</p><p>She pulled her lips off him again.</p><p>“I read a how-to manual,” Poppy told him. One of her hands let go of his shaft. She stroked his balls, then gently closed her hand around them, holding him.</p><p>Then her lips sped up, sucking him faster.</p><p>“Jesus,” Tora muttered under his breath. “I never… <em>oh…</em> knew nerds were… <em>ah</em>… so fucking… hot… fuck, Poppy…” his voice tightened, his hands gripping her hair as he shook.</p><p>She kept bobbing up and down, fast.</p><p>“Stop,” Tora said suddenly, loudly.</p><p>She jumped back.</p><p>“Sorry,” she said, on instinct. “Sorry, did I… are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” he panted, staring not at her but at the shadowed ceiling. Slowly she drew her hands off his rigid dick.</p><p>“Did I do something wrong?” she asked slowly.</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p>“Just trying not to cum yet,” he said. He drew his hands away from her and took a deep breath, then covered his face and groaned. He raked his hands back over his hair and looked down at her.</p><p>Poppy smiled at him.</p><p>“C’mere,” he said. “Get off the floor, will ya?”</p><p>She climbed up and sat on him, the thin cotton wall of her underwear the only barrier between her wet pussy and his hard cock.</p><p>Poppy leaned her head against his shoulder. He hugged her against him and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the desperate ache in his loins. He kissed the side of her face and drew in a deep breath.</p><p>“You’re really something, you know?” he whispered to her.</p><p>“Something good?” she whispered back.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, chuckling.</p><p>“Tora?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Do you have a condom?”</p><p>He tightened his hold on her. He let one hand fall down to cup her round ass, and leaned his head around to whisper in her ear.</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he told her. “Why? You wanna go for a ride?”</p><p>“Don’t be cheesy,” she said, burying her face against him. But he could tell she was biting back a laugh.</p><p>He hugged her against him as he leaned forward. His pants were around his ankles; his wallet was in his pants. He fished it out, found a condom, and leaned back against the seat of the car.</p><p>Poppy placed her hands on his shoulders and sat back. His hoodie damn near swallowed her.</p><p>“Poppy?” Tora asked. “You still wanna keep all that on?”</p><p>“Yeah. Is that okay? Sorry…”</p><p>He bit back a sigh so she wouldn’t hear his disappointment.</p><p>“Of course it’s okay. I just wanna see you naked.”</p><p>“You <em>have</em> seen me naked, use your imagination.”</p><p>Tora smirked.</p><p>“Next time you say you want ice cream you already know what I’m gonna tell you, right? Imagination ain’t the fuckin’ same.”</p><p>“Hush,” Poppy said, and covered his mouth with one hand. He turned his head sideways to escape the muzzle.</p><p>“Well, do you think I could see your tits? Just for a sec?”</p><p>“Seriously?”</p><p>He shrugged. You didn’t get what you didn’t ask for.</p><p>She rolled her eyes, but lifted shirt and hoodie together, revealing the swell of her chest encased by her bra.</p><p>Tora pulled down the cup of the bra, freeing a nipple and wrapping his lips around it.</p><p>“That’s not ‘seeing,’” she noted, but she didn’t move to stop him, either. He stayed there for a long moment, then drew back his lips and tugged her shirt down.</p><p>“Thanks,” Tora said.</p><p>He ripped open the condom and unrolled it over his shaft while Poppy watched. She rose off his lap then, onto her knees, and pulled her panties to the side.</p><p>She took hold of his cock and eased herself onto it. It was dark in the car and hard to make out the details, but Tora’s eyes stayed glued to that spot where their bodies joined, searching the shadows for how the lip of her pussy took him in. She was so wet it was easy to enter her.</p><p>Her walls held him tightly as a shock of pleasure thrummed through him.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” Poppy said, her voice thick. “You feel so good.”</p><p>He grunted in response and grabbed her hips, lifting her up and sliding her back down him.</p><p>His cock pushed inside her again, parting its way into her pussy. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>Poppy moaned. He gripped her tighter, lifted and lowered her again. She took over, bouncing up and down on him as he gritted his teeth. A hot coil of bliss unwound in him, threading through his veins and taking over his brain.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora moaned. Poppy cried back and moved faster.</p><p>“Tora,” she begged. “I want <em>you</em> to f… to do me.”</p><p>He grabbed her and held her in place a few inches above him, bucking his hips up to drive his thick, hard shaft inside her. She moaned and leaned back, reaching behind her to grab on to the front seat for support as he fucked her harder, faster.</p><p>She was so wet; he slicked in and out of her, his rod ramming into her with a wet squelch of their bodies combining, the sound overlaid by heavy, fast breathing.</p><p>Poppy was holding herself up now; Tora let go of her hips and ran his hands higher up, gripping her by the waist, then by the chest, then back down to squeeze her thighs as he plunged himself inside her.</p><p>“Behind?” Poppy whimpered.</p><p>“What?” he asked, thrusting up into her.</p><p>“From behind? Doggy style? Can…. <em>Ah</em>…”</p><p>“Maybe,” he grunted.</p><p>Quickly, frantically--he couldn’t bear to be out of her body for long—he drew back and helped her to flip over, so Poppy was on all fours on the back seat again. With one knee on the seat and one leg on the floor, he bent over her and sought her opening again. She angled her hips up to him obligingly. His guided his cock, rubbing the condom-covered tip up and down her opening, rubbing at her clit with his head as he sought to find the right angle again.</p><p>At last he did and slipped an inch into her as they both gasped. Then deeper as Tora drove himself all the way inside, grinding his thighs tight against her ass to bury every inch of his thick, swollen member into her body. He froze for a moment when he was all the way in, his breathing loud and shallow. His cock throbbed, hard and eager and <em>screaming</em> with the need to plow her.</p><p>He straightened his back and hit his head on the ceiling of the car.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora said, but it was cloth—it didn’t hurt. Still. Annoying. He bent his neck and slid his shaft out of her, then drove back in. Poppy moaned loudly. She had one hand on the door of the car, leaning forward against it. He grunted and lowered himself, hugging her from behind, and began to pump at her. The position, normally gratifying, was awkward and strained in the confines of the car. Still, there was no denying how good it felt to be inside her.</p><p>He stayed deep inside her, keeping his movements small and shallow. Their bodies rubbed together, hers squeezing around him. Poppy’s breaths came in little panting gasps. Tora groaned now and then, his mind reduced to nothing but the feel of her in his arms and around his cock.</p><p>Then it was too much; those little movements weren’t doing it for him, no matter how tight she was on his shaft, how pleasurably the sides of her body rubbed tight against him.</p><p>He straightened again, and this time put one hand on the ceiling to brace himself as he hovered half-bent in the back of the car, and drew his hips back, and <em>slammed </em>them forward.</p><p>Poppy cried out wordlessly.</p><p>Hard and fast he drove himself against her, their bodies clapping loudly together. With each thrust Tora grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as he inched closer to cumming. And then he did. His mind was utterly blank, so blank he couldn’t even <em>feel</em> how good he felt. It was too overwhelming to process. And then he was back in his body, cum pulsing out of him, his erection still buried in Poppy, both of them breathing hard.</p><p>“Holy shit,” he whispered, and pulled himself out of her slowly. He fell back onto the seat of the car, and pulled her over so she rested with her back against his chest, his muscular arms tight and shaking around her. A thin sheen of sweat glazed both their bodies. The stench of sex filled the car.</p><p>“Thank you,” Poppy whispered.</p><p>“Mm? Thanks,” Tora replied, in a daze.</p><p>“Was that good? For you?” she whispered.</p><p>“Fuck yeah,” he whispered back, eyes shut, chest rising and falling slowly.</p><p>*</p><p>They were fully clothed again, but still in the back seat. Poppy leaned against Tora, one of his arms wrapped around her. Bit by bit they worked their way through the food she’d brought, sitting mostly in silence.</p><p>It was a comfortable silence, a good silence. He was utterly content. He leaned against the back of the car, chewing, eyes shut, Poppy against him.</p><p>“Fudge biscuits,” Poppy whispered in horror.</p><p>He opened his eyes. She was staring at her phone.</p><p>“S’wrong?” Tora mumbled.</p><p>“It’s almost four am!”</p><p>“Hah,” he said.</p><p>“Tora, I have work in the morning!” There was a note of horror in her voice.</p><p>“Alright,” he said, resigned. “I’ll take you home, if you wanna go.”</p><p>“I didn’t say <em>that</em>,” she amended. “We <em>do</em> need to go. But I didn’t say I <em>wanted</em> to go.” She leaned against him again a moment longer, then sat up and pressed her lips to his cheek.</p><p>“What was that for?” he said, the corner of his lips twitching up. She smiled and shrugged.</p><p>“For tonight,” Poppy said. “Boyfriend.”</p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Coffee Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope y'all enjoy, let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He drove Poppylan home and waited for her to get inside; he couldn’t risk leaving the car in case there were cameras up. Unlikely, but they’d taken enough risks for the night.</p><p>Drove the car close to where he’d stolen it and stashed a few hundred in the glovebox as a thank you.</p><p>Headed home on foot. He didn’t even care it was late. His stomach kept flipping over and he kept having to wipe the smile off his face.</p><p>He had a girlfriend.</p><p>He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but he’d underestimated his exhaustion. No sooner had Tora stretched his legs out on his couch than he was out cold. And then Quincey was calling him on his 12%-battery-remaining phone and asking where the hell he was, and did he or didn’t he remember he was supposed to pick him up?</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora croaked. “Right.” He hung up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wondered if he could keep Quincey waiting long enough to shower, and then smiled thinking about the events of the night before and how badly he needed one.</p><p>But he was supposed to take Quincey to a meeting with Poppy, and he was already late.</p><p>And fuck, poor Poppy had already been at work for… he double checked his phone and slowly, with the ache of exhaustion and dreams still clinging to his consciousness, did the math. Over two hours, almost three.</p><p><em>Poor fuckin’ hamster</em>, he thought as he finally stood. He threw on fresh clothes, and enough deodorant and cologne to disguise the lack of shower. He grabbed his wallet and charger. He opened the door and blinked at how disgustingly bright it was. Shut the door, grabbed sunglasses, and pulled his hood up.</p><p>*</p><p>“You’re free tonight, right?” Quincey asked from the passenger seat. The blonde rifled through a portfolio on his lap, thumbing his way through red-marked papers.</p><p>“Tonight?” Tora croaked.</p><p>Quincey rolled his eyes.</p><p>“You only missed a dozen texts, honey. I swear. Gyu wants to go to a bar.”</p><p>“Too tired,” Tora said.</p><p>Quincey glared at him.</p><p>“That poor boy has his first night off in over a month, Tora, and all he wants to do is see his friends. Please don’t make me order you around. You <em>know</em> I hate pulling the ‘boss’ card.”</p><p>“Yeah, ‘cuz that shit doesn't work on me,” Tora grumbled.</p><p>As if to prove a point, he abruptly hit the breaks and reversed into a spot on the side of the road. To call it parallel parking would be generous; the nose of his car stuck out far enough that any oncoming traffic would have to put on their blinker and swerve around.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Quincey asked. They were blocks from Giant Goldfish.</p><p>Tora swung his door open, ignoring the flood of honks.</p><p>“Tora!” Quincey yelled.</p><p>The giant stepped out of the car and turned around, leaning down to look Quincey in the eye.</p><p>“Coffee. You want me to fall asleep at the wheel or what?”</p><p>“Caveman,” Quincey complained. “Fine. Get me a hazelnut iced coffee with skim—”</p><p>Tora shut the door without listening to the rest. He already knew what Quincey wanted, and it was a little too gratifying to mess with him.</p><p>Quincey came into the shop just as Tora was leaving it. In one hand Tora held a small black red eye. In the other he held a tray: Quincey’s iced coffee and some sickeningly sweet concoction topped with whipped cream and chocolate sauce.</p><p>“I got tired of everyone yelling at me to park better,” Quincey explained, though Tora hadn’t asked.</p><p>“People can fuck off,” Tora replied. Quincey eyed what his friend was holding.</p><p>“You got Poppy a drink? I should have known,” Quincey said, smirking and rolling his eyes.</p><p>“No, <em>you</em> got Poppy a drink,” Tora said smoothly.</p><p>“Sure I did,” Quincey said with a wink.</p><p>“No, really. I used your credit card. And you left a very nice tip.”</p><p>“<em>Again</em>?” Quincey screeched. He trotted after Tora to the car, gaping as Tora shoved the tray of two drinks into Quincey’s hand and went around to the driver’s seat. “When did you get my…?”</p><p>“You’re too easy to pickpocket,” Tora said. He unlocked the car and slid into his seat, then took another sip of coffee. “S’cheap, as far as lessons go.”</p><p>“God,” Quincey said, shaking his head and sitting carefully, holding the drinks far away from him in fear that a speck of coffee might ruin his cream cashmere sweater.</p><p>Tora dug in his pocket and tossed Quincey’s wallet onto his lap. Then he put his coffee in the cup holder and pulled abruptly out of the spot. Quincey yelped and tightened his grip on the drinks, eyes wide.</p><p>The car behind them slammed on the breaks and the horn. </p><p>“You’re a ruffian,” Quincey said.</p><p>“Like you can’t spare twenty fuckin’ bucks,” Tora said.</p><p>“With all the favors I do <em>you</em>…” Quincey drawled.</p><p>“Christ. I’ll buy you ya drinks tonight, princess.”</p><p>“So you <em>are </em>coming?”</p><p>“Course,” Tora grumbled.</p><p>*</p><p>He hung by the door as they walked into Giant Goldfish.</p><p>Poppy didn’t even notice the door opening. Jesus, she looked tired. Grateful for his sunglasses, Tora took the opportunity to really stare at her. He examined her baggy sweater and messy ponytail, her ringed eyes, her slouched posture. Slowly she lifted a hand to her mouth and yawned. Poor hamster. He didn’t <em>regret</em> the night before—best fucking night of his life—but he wished she could’ve slept in.</p><p>“Good <em>morning</em>,” Quincey trilled. Sweeping in, he set the coffee down at Poppy’s desk. “How’s my favorite editor?”</p><p>“Huh?” Poppy blinked at the drink, then up at Quincey. Slowly her head turned until she found Tora.</p><p>He folded his coffee-holding hand across his chest and put his other finger casually on his lips, keeping his face granite-smooth despite the urge to smile. She blushed and looked back at Quincey.</p><p>“Where’s mine?” Jacob asked.</p><p>“You don’t need it,” Quincey said. “But Poppy needs to be on her toes today. This mountain retreat scene just isn’t coming together.”</p><p><em>Thank you, Quincey, for always thinking on your feet. </em>Tora looked Jacob flat in the eye and added:</p><p>“Besides. You really should watch what you eat, Jacob. You <em>really</em> don’t need all that sugar.”</p><p>Jacob blinked at him, nodded, and slowly turned away.</p><p>*</p><p>That week gave new meaning to the phrase <em>time is relative</em>.</p><p>The dread threat of Friday hung low over his head. Though Tora should have savored his new status as Poppy’s boyfriend, he had only to blink and another day passed.  Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and then it was time for her to meet Vincent.</p><p>It was the first time in years that Tora regretting <em>not</em> being allowed in Vincent’s presence. Normally he’d do anything to stay away from the big boss.</p><p>But tonight, sitting in the car and watching...</p><p>Watching Poppy get out of the back seat, in her knee-length, curve-hugging, brand new red dress. Watching as Quincey offered Poppy his arm.  Watching as they walked towards the door…</p><p>Watching as Poppy turned over her shoulder for a moment, her eyes burning into his.</p><p>And then, as they vanished inside Vincent’s county house a twenty-minute drive from Narin city, time stopped moving altogether.</p><p>It took a year for his car clock to inch from 7:08 to 7:09. From 7:09 to 7:10 he aged a decade. How was he supposed to take this? It was tonight, but it was <em>more</em> than that. The night after, the week after, the month after.</p><p>What future could they ever have? How was he supposed to live like this? How could Poppylan possibly be okay with it?</p><p>His brain said they couldn’t make it work. His heart said they <em>had</em> to.</p><p>Tora turned off the car and got out. He stared at the closed doorway of the house, the perfectly manicured shrubbery lining the walls.</p><p>He began to stalk the perimeter. Better to move than to stay still.</p><p>“Christ,” he growled.</p><p>Poppy was a smart woman. And Quincey, good friend and brother that he was, had spent nearly two hours the night before getting her ready for the ordeal. Every detail of what she could and could not say.</p><p>It was going to be fine. <em>It had to be fine. </em></p><p>And he was just the chauffer tonight. He stared at one of Vincent’s guards and felt his hand curl into a fist.</p><p>Bad idea. He grabbed his phone, exhaled hard, and dialed the number labeled Ronzo.</p><p>“Big bro, what’s good,” Gyu answered.</p><p>“You on guard duty?” Tora growled.</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“Good.” Guard duty at Poppy’s apartment meant Gyu could talk. Not like working at a restaurant or café. “I need you to distract me.”</p><p>“Seriously?” Gyu said, his tone astonished. “From what?”</p><p>“Doing something stupid,” Tora growled, staring at the big house and its dark windows.  </p><p>“As if I’ve ever been able to talk you out of that,” Gyu said dryly.</p><p>“Fuck off,” said Tora. “Just talk. I don’t give a fuck about what.”</p><p>“Right.” There was a pause. He heard Gyu take a deep breath, then clear his throat. “So I went to see my sis this morning,” he said. “You never did tell me what the deal was between you two.”</p>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Family Relations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm a lil nervous about some of the plot developments here so if you hate it I'M SORRY</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“So I went to see my sis this morning,” Gyu said. “You never did tell me what the deal was between you two.”</em>
</p><p>For fuck’s sake. This again. Tora exhaled hard and narrowed his eyes. He glared at Vincent’s country house, directing his annoyance at the murderous mob boss inside rather than at Gyu.</p><p>“…right,” Tora said.</p><p>When was Gyu going to drop that? He’d first brought it up ages ago, in the pickup truck after searching Giant Goldfish. That felt like a lifetime past, when Poppylan was just some cute chick he was trying to keep out of the way of harm.</p><p>But mild-manner Gyu could be as tenacious as a bulldog when he wanted to know something. It was what made him so good at hacking. It was <em>also</em> what made him a royal pain in the ass.</p><p>“So?” said Gyu. “You want a distraction. Let’s talk about it. Why are you avoiding her?”</p><p>“Remind me to stop calling ya,” Tora muttered. “Can’t hit you for being an ass through the phone.” He reached into his pocket one-handed to pull out a carton of cigarettes. He thumbed the crumpled box open, then pinched his phone between shoulder and cheek to pull one out.</p><p>“Did something happen between you two? I don’t wanna have to beat you up,” Gyu joked.</p><p>“Jesus, like ya could,” Tora snorted. He lit the cigarette, a little bent at the end. Who the fuck did Gyu think he was?</p><p>He wasn’t about to tell Gyu <em>why </em>he’d been talking to Lane long after his arrest. <em>Why</em> Goliath’s backstabbing idiocy had led to this conversation.</p><p>It wasn’t like being an informant was safe, or a sure bet. One slip-up and he was dead. So he’d given her a few things, as agreed, and then thought better of it. He was fucking pissed that Lane had brought it up to Gyu at all.</p><p>“C’mon. Who the fuck likes talking to cops?” Tora said.</p><p>“She <em>asked </em>me to get you in touch with her, big bro. So please, call her back.”</p><p>“Tell her to fuck off,” Tora said, exhaling a stream of smoke and watching a new light turn on in Vincent’s house, illuminating three curtain-covered windows. He knew the layout of the house well: so, they were moving on to dinner. He should have put a mic on Quincey. What he wouldn't give to have a bug in that house right now.</p><p>“Tora…” Gyu said.</p><p>“Never fuckin’ mind,” Tora said, and hung up. Talking to Gyu wasn’t helping him calm down. He frowned and drew on the cigarette, then stomped back to the car and threw the door open. He’d just have to rely on his own common sense to keep him from doing something stupid.</p><p>If he hadn’t been so tense, he might have laughed at his own joke. Common sense. Since when had <em>he</em> made use of that?</p><p>*</p><p>Three hours later saw Tora lounging in the reclined driver’s seat, scrolling through nothing on his phone and trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach that wouldn’t go away.</p><p>Then a bit of movement caught his eye.</p><p>He clicked off his phone and sat up, staring as the front door opened. Quincey stepped out of the house, gripping Poppy awkwardly by the elbow. Tora brought his seat back up and tossed the phone onto the front passenger seat. Quincey and Poppy walked out of the light and became silhouettes. For a moment Tora saw Vincent behind them; Quincey turned over his shoulder and waved. Then the door closed.</p><p>Tora’s throat tightened. The two of them walked briskly, Quincey’s hand fiendishly tight and Poppy’s lips drawn flat. Quincey opened the car door and Poppy slid in; Quincey followed.</p><p>They both looked shell-shocked. They weren’t looking at each other.</p><p>“What…?” Tora started to say.</p><p>“Just drive,” Quincey snapped. He wasn’t meeting Tora’s eyes, either.</p><p>Tora followed Quincey’s demand for two reasons: first, because they were in front of Vincent’s, and every instinct was screaming to get Poppylan away. Second, because the look on Quincey’s face was one he’d seldom seen. Poppy leaned against the car door and lifted a hand over her face.</p><p>Tora turned on the car and split from the lot, flipping the headlights on as his tires gripped the asphalt.</p><p><em>What had happened? </em>Threats? Some slip-up? Did Vincent <em>know</em>? Was he in danger? Was Poppy? His stomach clenched and twisted, trapped in a war between fear and fury and confusion. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles white.</p><p>“So, what…” Tora started to ask. </p><p>“<em>Why</em> didn’t you tell me?” Quincey said to Poppy at the same time, running a hand through his blonde hair.</p><p>“I didn’t <em>know</em>,” Poppy said back softly.</p><p>“Know what?” Tora growled, eyes flipping between the rearview mirror and the country road.</p><p>“I can’t believe this,” Quincey groaned. He fastened his seatbelt with a sigh, staring out the window as the dark landscape slipped past them.</p><p>“<em>Believe what</em>?” Tora snapped. He was about to pull over and smack Quincey if the Princess wouldn’t just <em>tell him </em>what the fuck was happening. He accelerated, merging onto the highway.</p><p>His phone started to ring, vibrating in the front seat. He glanced over and down to see the name on the screen. What should have been a split-second became a full beat as his eyebrows furrowed. <em>Vincent? </em>Why the fuck was Vincent calling?</p><p>“Tora!” Poppy yelped.</p><p>He looked up, just as Quincey started to squeal, and saw red taillights uncomfortably close. The car ahead was breaking for a red light, and in seconds they’d smash into it.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora muttered, slamming on the break and throwing all three of them forward. The phone, still ringing, flew forward onto the passenger seat floor. Two feet, if that, remained between his car and the one in front. Tora winced, teeth gritted, and turned back to look at Poppy. </p><p>“You okay, sweetheart?” Tora growled.</p><p>She rubbed her neck and looked up at him but said nothing.</p><p>“Me? <em>Fine</em>, thanks,” Quincey snapped. “Watch the road, <em>please</em>.”</p><p>The phone stopped ringing. The light changed. The car in front of them sped off, but Tora did not move. He remained turned over his shoulder, staring first at Quincey and then at Poppy.</p><p>Quincey’s breath was fast and shallow, panicked from the near-crash. Poppy slowly averted her gaze, looking out the window and sighing. Her hands trembled.</p><p>“Someone tell me what the <em>fuck</em> is going on, right now.” Tora said. “I’m not moving till ya do.”</p><p>A car pulled up behind them, honked, and then eased its way around to speed forward.</p><p>“You never asked about the broach, <em>that</em>’<em>s </em>what’s going on,” Quincey snapped, his blue eyes boring into Tora.</p><p>“The fuck does that matter for?” Tora bellowed, feeling frustrated and confused and entirely left out of the conversation. Couldn’t Quincey stop talking in riddles and just fill him in already?</p><p>“Family heirloom!” Quincey said, slapping his chest. He pointed at Poppy. “<em>Family heirloom.”</em> He waved his hand between the two of them. “<em>How the hell </em>do you think we <em>both</em> have the same <em>family heirloom</em>?”</p><p>Slowly, blinking, Tora turned back to the road. He frowned and put his foot on the gas.</p><p>The phone buzzed again from the passenger floor, announcing the arrival of a text message.</p><p>“What… kinda…” Tora muttered, stumbling over the words.</p><p>“Second cousins,” Poppy whispered, speaking up at last. “Our grandmas were sisters. Turns out my Gran moved away from the city to get away from her… um, family. And the family… business.”</p><p><em>That</em> was a weird feeling in his stomach.</p><p>Poppy had always been the anti-Balthuman. The escape. The complete civilian with no ties to the dangerous, awful world he inhabited.</p><p>But she wasn’t separate, was she? Yes, she was innocent, and sweet, and good, and not <em>involved</em>, but go back up the family tree and she was just another one.</p><p>What a sick joke. But at least he saw a silver lining in it.</p><p>“Holy fuck,” Tora said. “I guess you two gotta ‘break up,’ huh?”</p><p>He almost made a joke about how it was good they weren’t <em>actually</em> fucking, but he didn’t think Poppy would appreciate that one. Not to mention it made his blood boil in a bad way to think about.</p><p>Silence from the backseat. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then palmed the car around a sharp turn in the road. Quincey took a deep breath. Tora was missing something. If Vincent had told them to break up, there wouldn't be so much tension in the air.</p><p>“How’d he even…” Tora started.</p><p>“He got out the photo of my grandmother with the broach,” Quincey said. “Since I asked, last time I saw him. And since we weren’t prepared, Poppy…”</p><p>“I asked about it,” she whispered, so soft Tora could barely hear. “And I told him. I didn’t realize…” she lapsed into silence.</p><p>It finally occurred to him, in the silence, what all this really meant.</p><p>“You know how dad gets about bloodlines,” Quincey said softly, confirming the dark sickness that wrapped itself around Tora’s heart. “<em>’Part of the dynasty</em>,’ he said.”</p><p>“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tora snarled under his breath.</p><p>“I really wish I was,” Quincey whispered back.</p><p>Once again, the phone on the floor began to ring.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Dog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Angst?? What's that???</p><p>Also, thanks for all the comments on the last chapter. I know I don't always respond (I am lazy, tired, and also, tbh, kinda shy sometimes about it) but for what it's worth I neurotically refresh my phone and read each one and adore them all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The phone kept ringing on the floor. Tora turned back around in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield as the tension in his shoulders built.</p><p>“Fuck,” he said. Another car sped past them.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” he yelled, louder, smacking his palms against the wheel. This was his own fault. They could have avoided it if he’d just asked her about the broach. But he’d been so damn <em>entranced </em>by her he’d let it slip, conversation after conversation, panting after her like a dog. And now here they were.</p><p>Once you were in Balthuman you couldn’t get out. And now that Vincent’s eye was fixed on her, she was never getting out. There would be no easy break-up, no painless parting between her and Quincey. If Vincent wanted her there, there she would stay. And it was his own fucking fault. </p><p>Silence in the backseat. He took a second. Took a deep breath. Unbelievable.</p><p>Tora shook his head minutely and started to drive again. His foot crunched down on the gas, lurching the car forward and skimming up over the speed limit. He exhaled hard and shook his head, then lifted a hand to run it through his long hair. Turmoil; his head was in turmoil. His ears buzzed; he couldn’t focus on a thought for more than a second.</p><p>Did it really change anything? They were still in the same position. Hiding, lying.</p><p>But he knew, also, still: yes. It changed everything.</p><p>“Fucking…” He rolled down the window and flipped on the radio. A classic rock song, halfway through, snapped over the airwaves.</p><p>“Tora—” Poppy started to say.</p><p>He couldn’t handle that. He turned the music up, louder.</p><p>He knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t talk right now. He could barely think straight.</p><p>Was that what love was? Feeling sick to your stomach, and scared? Feeling like your heart was constricted so tight you might pass out? Like you were so tied up in someone else you couldn’t even breath?</p><p>If so, he didn’t want it. To hell with it. The complications, the risks. Better if he’d never met her. They wouldn’t be here, then. None of them. She’d be safe, probably dating some loser accountant who tucked in his shirts and had a college degree, or some shit. Quincey would be doing his own thing, not tangled up in Tora’s mess. And Tora…</p><p>He’d be alone. The way he’d always been. It was better that way. Nobody to take down with him. Nobody to hurt.</p><p>He felt something on his shoulder. A hand, gripping him. He’d been so caught up in his feelings for once he’d lost track of what was going on around him.</p><p>“What?” he snapped. He couldn’t even hear his own voice over the music. He reached forward and turned it down.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Poppy said, her hand still touching him.</p><p>“Just gimme a second,” Tora grumbled.</p><p>She didn’t move her hand. He reached his own up and squeezed hers, then let go. That seemed to satisfy her. She let go of him, sitting back.</p><p>Was this what love felt like? He didn’t want it. But there it was, nonetheless. Gripping him tighter than his fear, his doubts, his uncertainty. Unshakable.</p><p>*</p><p>He sent Poppylan and Quincey up into Quincey’s condo, then called Vincent back from inside the car.</p><p>“When I call, you need to pick up, son,” Vincent said, his tone steel.</p><p>“I was driving your fuckin’ son and his girl home,” Tora replied. “You want me to crash?”</p><p>“Don’t take that tone with me.”</p><p>“S’just how I fucking talk.” Tora glared at the sidewalk. A dandelion poked out from between a crack in the concrete. He stomped on it, grinding it under his heel and smearing yellow across the ground.</p><p>“I need to talk to you about something. Are Quinceton and Poppylan home?”</p><p>“Yup,” Tora said.</p><p>“Then come back over.”</p><p>“Just tell me over the phone. S’ a waste of a drive.”</p><p>“Now. I’m not asking.”</p><p>“Right,” Tora said. Vincent hung up.</p><p>Tora’s hand trembled slightly.</p><p><em>Get a fucking grip. </em>No moment of weakness allowed. He trotted up the stairs, phone still in hand, and let himself into the condo.</p><p>Quincey paced back and forth, hands in his pockets. Poppylan, sitting on the couch, turned to face him and quickly stood to her feet.</p><p>“I gotta go,” Tora said. “Ya old man wants to talk to me about—somethin’.”</p><p>Quincey froze, facing Tora. He said nothing for a moment, then strode forward and grabbed Tora’s wrist.</p><p>Tora glanced down.</p><p>“You don’t wanna be doing that,” Tora growled, in too foul a mood to be a good friend.</p><p>But Quincey knew him well enough, trusted him well enough, to see his angry words for what they were: no real threat. Just a barking dog backed into a corner.</p><p>“Hey,” Quincey said, under his breath. “Tora, honey. We’ll figure it out. We <em>always </em>figure it out. Okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. Right. Now fucking let go.”</p><p>“Love you too,” said Quincey, rolling his eyes. “And you’re welcome, by the way, for me putting up with this.”</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy said softly, still standing beside the couch. His eyes went to her. “Can you take me home?”</p><p>“Bobby…” Tora’s jaw clenched.</p><p>Quincey let go of Tora’s wrist, and left to give them space.</p><p>Poppy was still by the couch, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read.</p><p>“You should stay here,” he said softly. “So I can come back, after.”</p><p>“I just want to go home,” she whispered.</p><p>“Hey.” He closed the gap between them in a few steps. “You okay?”</p><p>“I had no idea,” she said. Tears welled in her eyes; he couldn’t stand that. Fuck. If she started crying right now he really <em>was</em> going to lose it. “Tora, I’m sorry.”</p><p>“The fuck?” His voice was low, and rough with emotion. Slowly he put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. “Sweetheart, <em>no</em>. Don’t be doing that. S’not your fault. Sorry I’m… fuckin’ pissy.”</p><p>That got a giggle out of her.</p><p>“Look,” Tora plowed on, slipping his hand around to cradle the back of her head. “Please, stay? I wanna spend the night with you. I…”</p><p>“Tora…” she flushed pink, and looked down. “I think I need a night. To… process this.”</p><p>His jaw clenched, but he nodded.</p><p>“Okay,” Tora agreed, reluctantly. “If that’s what ya want.”</p><p>“It’s not that I don’t want to see <em>you,” </em>she insisted. “I just need time. Are you mad?”</p><p>“Nah. But I gotta go. You ready now?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>He might not have a chance, after they walked though Quincey’s doors, so Tora took it while he had it.</p><p>He bent down and pressed his lips fiercely against hers, wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment Poppy threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. She tasted like wine. He deepened the kiss and pulled her tight against him.</p><p>*</p><p>Vincent kept him waiting.</p><p>Tora sat in the wide hallway, foot tapping slowly on the ground. He stared blankly at a baroque-style painting on the wall: to all appearances, studying it. In all reality? Not seeing a thing.</p><p>At last, Smithy opened the study door.</p><p>“Tora? He’s ready for you.”</p><p>Tora stood without a word and strolled into the study.</p><p>“Well?” Tora said, voice blunt, folding his arms.</p><p>“Your edges never soften, son, do they?” Vincent said, with a small smile. The ice-eyed clan boss leaned back in his leather chair.</p><p>“It’s fucking late,” Tora said. “What do you want?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, who works for who?” Vincent said, lifting an eyebrow.</p><p>Tora bit his tongue but said nothing.</p><p>“We have a problem,” Vincent said.</p><p>Tora didn’t let his muscles tighten; that was a tell. He didn’t let his eyes flinch, or his teeth clench, or his heart speed up. He just waited.</p><p>“Port Tavan,” Vincent continued.</p><p>Tora couldn’t help it: his resolve broke enough that he blinked in surprise. Was this <em>not</em> about Poppylan?</p><p>“What about it?” Tora said. He’d never been, but he knew where it was on a map. Five hour drive. Small city. A third the size of Narin city, maybe.</p><p>“A number of important shipments come through there,” Vincent said. “Our organization has a small branch there. Small, but important.”</p><p>“An’ someone’s fucking up?”</p><p>“Language,” Vincent said dryly. “Yes. Skimming off the top, and then some. We can’t have that.”</p><p>“Who you want me to take out?”</p><p>“I’ll give you the names. But it’s not a one-time job, Tora. I need somebody there. To oversee it until they earn my trust back.”</p><p>Oh. Now he got it. Fuck no.</p><p>“Shing Ma,” Tora recommended. “Good with people. Good with numbers.”</p><p>“Very funny,” Vincent said. “You leave tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“You sending me away?” Tora said. "Just like that?"</p><p>He felt like he was outside of himself, watching the scene from outside it all. Of all the punishments he’d expect from Vincent. Beatings, blood. Backstabbing. Somehow he hadn’t seen this one coming?</p><p>“Can you think of a reason not to?” Vincent’s voice was dangerously soft.</p><p>“Quincey needs a…”</p><p>“I can find him another bodyguard,” Vincent said. “Now, you’d better go pack. You have to be back here at 11 am tomorrow. I’m sending a little team with you.”</p><p>“I…”</p><p>“Cheer up, Tora,” Vincent drawled. “This will be fun. Now get out of here. It’s late.”</p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. The Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I finished my work early tonight and was in the mood to write, soooo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Country noises: wind soughed through the trees. In the distance a frog croaked.</p><p>Tora’s footsteps, from Vincent’s door to his car, were silent. His sneakers padded softly on the hard asphalt. They were the steps of a trained killer, a man who’d learned long ago how to move without a sound.</p><p>A soft beep as his car unlocked. A click as he tugged the handle. The hum of his engine as he twisted the key, and a click as his seatbelt fastened.</p><p>And inside his head?</p><p>That was silent, too. For the moment. No, he hadn’t lost his fight. But slowly, bit by bit, he was coming to grips with the reality of it all.</p><p>He wasn’t in the mood to talk, or to be around anybody, but come tomorrow he’d be leaving. He pulled up the contact he’d shortened to “Bob.” With his thumb hovering over the button, he began to drive. His heart beat a dull, sick thump in his chest and his mouth tasted sandpaper-dry.</p><p>He waited to make the call until he was a mile from the house. It rang twice before she picked up.</p><p>“Hey,” Poppy said. Her voice was soft and tired.</p><p>“You awake?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m awake. Is everything okay?”</p><p>“Hey I… know you wanted a night. But somethin’ happened.” He focused on the distant point of the road where the lines converged, just out of the reach of his headlights.</p><p>“Tora? Are you okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. But I, uh. Shit.” Why was this so hard? He drew in a sharp breath and frowned. He didn’t want to tell her over the phone. How long was it going to be before he saw her again? The other side of the line was silent as Poppy waited for him to continue. “…Can I come over?”</p><p>“What?” he heard the hesitation in her voice. “I thought that was a bad idea.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he admitted.</p><p>There was a long pause.</p><p>“Okay,” she said at last. “If you think it’s okay. I trust you.”</p><p>“I’ll be there around midnight,” he said. He hung up the phone and tried to figure out how the hell he was going to tell her.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>“Not gonna see you for a while.”</p><p>“…What do you mean?” she said the words slowly.</p><p>They were sitting on her bed. Poppy was out of her dress in pajamas, hair loose, legs tucked to one side. She’d washed the makeup off her face; she looked as beautiful to him as always.</p><p>Tora was cross-legged, fully clothed but for his shoes, looking down at his hands instead of her. He’d swept the parking lot, the stairwell, and her apartment for cameras. Closed all the blinds. Yes, it was risky: but they were definitely alone.</p><p>He frowned and cracked a knuckle, then spoke.</p><p>“Boss is sending me away. Gonna be in Tavan.”</p><p>“For how long?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Tora said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “Long time, maybe? Shit, Poppylan. I’m sorry. ‘S my fault. Shoulda come up with a different lie, or something. Kept my distance. I dunno.”</p><p>He didn’t see her expression. Couldn’t bear to look at her.</p><p>“Does he <em>know</em>?” she asked.</p><p>“Maybe. Or guesses. Look, I’ll come up with something, I swear, and I’m gonna fix this. Get you out of this. Quincey’ll keep ya safe till then. But I guess this is it for us.”</p><p>He ground one of his fists into the plush blanket on her bed. They had <em>just </em>started dating. He didn't mean to feel sorry for himself, but fuck--couldn't something, anything, <em>one fucking thing,</em> go right in his life for once? Of course not. Not for him.</p><p>“You’re breaking up with me?” Poppy whispered.</p><p>“What?” He at last looked at her, startled. There were tears in her eyes. Tora gulped. “Fuck, if… fuck. If that’s what you want.”</p><p>“Isn’t that what you’re saying?”</p><p>“No.” he buried his face in his hands. He didn’t really cry, ever, but he still didn’t want her seeing all the emotion there. </p><p>“So, what? Long distance?” Poppy said, her voice distant and small.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Tora said. “I got no fucking clue. Shit, I have no clue why you’d still wanna be with me after all this crap, but…”</p><p>A hand wrapped gently around his wrist and pried his palm from his face. He turned away, but Poppy was there, rising to her knees and taking his face in her hands.</p><p>“Tora,” she said. “Hey. Grouchy man. It’ll be alright.”</p><p>“How the fuck is it gonna be alright?” he grumbled. He tried to glare at her, but couldn’t manage.</p><p>“I don’t know. It just is.” He reached up to take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.</p><p>“Can you really fuckin’ do this?” he asked, squeezing her hand.</p><p>“Can <em>you</em>?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“’Course,” he mumbled. "For you, 'course."</p><p>“Then so can I,” Poppy said, her tone firm although her voice wobbled. “We’ll, we’ll get burner phones so we can send real texts, about whatever we want, with nobody watching. Have secret video calls, and… maybe Quincey and I can go on vacation on the West coast, somewhere near you. And we’ll find a spot to meet in the middle.”</p><p>“Burner phones? Who’s the thug now?” he asked, a smile threatening to appear on his otherwise despairing face.</p><p>“I learned from the best,” Poppy said. For a moment she met his eyes. A long second of silence, but so much passed between them. Then he saw a flicker of hesitation.</p><p>“What?” Tora said.</p><p>“It’ll be fine,” Poppy insisted weakly. She tucked her hair behind her ear.</p><p>“Tell me.”</p><p>“I <em>did</em> long distance,” she admitted. “You might get, I don’t know. Bored? Or, or tired of waiting?”</p><p>“Jesus,” Tora said. “You’re outta your damn mind, sweetheart. That’s never gonna happen.”</p><p>“What if it does?”</p><p>“It’s not,” Tora said fiercely. “I don’t care about much, Poppy. But I care about you. I’m not going anywhere.” He blinked, then corrected. “I mean, I’m not your cheating asshole ex. Being apart doesn’t mean I’d ever fuck ya over.”</p><p>“Then let’s stop talking about this,” she said. “If it’s our last night for who knows how long, we’d better enjoy it, right?” She inched forward, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him softly, and he kissed her back, slow and gentle, tasting each other. His heart beat a slow tempo, aching and desperate, whole and breaking all at once. Poppy pulled back, and he leaned his forehead down against hers.</p><p>“Poppylan,” Tora said. “I dunno how you came into my life, but…”</p><p>She peeled off her pajama shirt, revealing her naked torso, and leaned in to kiss him again. Tora’s breath caught in his throat. As her chest crushed against him and her breath mixed with his, he forgot entirely what he’d been about to say.</p>
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<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Farewell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's smut but it's -sad smut- so, sorry and watch out ._. <br/>(for anyone who needs to know, though, the story 1000% has a happy ending; it's romance, not drama!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At first, sex was desperate.</p><p>Knowing what was coming for them—knowing he had to leave her, for who knew how long—flooded him with need. He had to cram every ounce of feeling, every future possibility, <em>everything</em>—into one moment.</p><p>His mouth bore down on her, his lips insistent and his breath hot. His tongue pushed into her mouth; she let him in. Tora gripped Poppy by the waist, then released her and fumbled at her pajama pants. She rose to her knees so he could ease the soft waistband over the curve of her hips. His mouth worked down her delicate neck. Bending nearly double, his lips traced her collarbone.</p><p>She yanked up his shirt; he tore it over his head. She ripped off his hair tie, releasing a cascade of black hair. Tora unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed off his own jeans. Threw her up the bed, to land against the pillows.</p><p>Climbed on top of her, hands roaming across her body, kissing every inch of her his lips could reach.</p><p>He did not savor her, did not gently caress her—no. There was a fire to his movements, a need.</p><p>He wasn’t teasing her. He was devouring her.</p><p>Desperate.</p><p>He knelt upright and reached for his pants; found a condom. Tora ripped open the package, pinched the tip, and rolled it over his thick, hard length.</p><p>Poppy panted up at him, her cheeks flooded red and her rosy lips parted.</p><p>He fell down on top of her, sliding his fingers between their naked bodies and hunting for the delicate folds between her legs. He was ready to ram himself inside her, but despite the mewling noises escaping Poppy’s lips and the way her arms wrapped around his neck—the way she grabbed at him, dug her fingers along his shoulders, pressed her lips in against his thick neck—he could feel she wasn’t ready.</p><p>He rose over her and found her mouth. They kissed as his fingertips circled her clit, then dug into her center. Kept kissing as his wrist cocked, fingers pumping into her. Each thrust his fingers emerged wetter, coated in her arousal. Poppy lowered a hand from his neck and gripped his condom-clad length. He groaned and grabbed her wrist, towing her hand back up above her head and holding it there. He wanted to focus on her, not get distracted.</p><p>“Tora,” she said.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I need you.”</p><p>Fuck, if he’d ever wanted to hear words as badly as he’d wanted to hear that. He exhaled hard and pushed her legs aside, then guided his tip to her.</p><p>“You sure ya ready?” Tora said, desperation turning his voice into a growl.</p><p>“Yeah,” Poppy said.</p><p>Their eyes met for a moment, then hers flickered shut.</p><p>He pushed himself inside her with a groan. Closed his own eyes as she moaned, low and quiet, and wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles against him.</p><p>Normally Tora started slow and then lost control, went faster. Started by savoring her; finished by plowing her as his mind burned with bliss.</p><p>Tonight, it was the opposite.</p><p>He rammed himself against her hard and fast, holding Poppy’s body against his own and crushing down on top of her, fucking her with an intensity not usually associated with affection—but here, borne entirely out of pain and need and want and care. Driven faster by her <em>own</em> need: the way she held him back. The way she cried out in pleasure and bucked up to meet his furious strokes.</p><p>Once those first feverish moments passed, and his mind unclouded, he remembered how precious a moment it was.</p><p>That he didn’t want it to end.</p><p>That driving frantically against her, no matter how good it felt, wasn’t what he wanted right now. Wasn’t what he needed.</p><p>He needed <em>her. </em>Every inch of her. Slow, and savored. Needed her to feel so good she wouldn’t forget him. Wouldn’t regret agreeing to stay with him through <em>this</em>, through whatever was coming.  </p><p>Needed to prove he was worth it. If he could.</p><p>More than that? Needed to savor her for his <em>own</em> sake. Needed to say goodbye.</p><p>With that realization, he at last slowed.</p><p>He froze, still inside her, breathing hard, and peered down at her.</p><p>“Did you come?” Poppy whispered, running her hand tight against his back. With her other hand she tucked his hair behind one of his ears.</p><p>“What? No,” Tora whispered back. He drew in a deep breath and pulled most of the way out, then kissed her forehead. Slowly, he drove himself back inside her. He closed his eyes and listened to how Poppy moaned, her voice deepening the further into her he went.</p><p>“Then why’d you…”</p><p>“I want to last,” he whispered back. He let go of her wrist, still held above her head, and laced his fingers in with hers. “That okay?”</p><p>“Of course,” she said.</p><p>“If you want me to…” he started to say.</p><p>“No,” she said. “Slow is good. I don’t want it to end either.”</p><p>He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed slowly, then pulled out and pushed back in. They both moaned.</p><p>“Gonna miss ya,” he murmured.</p><p>“Don’t,” Poppy said.</p><p>He opened his eyes and met hers.</p><p>“Don’t talk about it,” she said.</p><p>He didn’t answer. He lay his head down next to her, and then rolled them both onto their sides. Tora pulled Poppy’s top leg tight over him and pillowed her head with his other arm, kissing her and digging himself deeper inside. He traced the contour of her body, running a hand down her ribs and the natural dip of her waist, up her hip, across her round ass, along the back of her thigh and to her knee. Further down, back up. All of her.</p><p>He heard her draw a ragged breath, and bent his own head back so he could look at her. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes.</p><p>Tora froze.</p><p>“Poppylan?” he whispered.</p><p>“I’m fine. Don’t stop,” she said, tangling her fingers into his hair and pressing herself against him.</p><p>“Sweetheart…” he wasn’t about to keep going. Not with her crying. That was a bit much for him.</p><p>“Please,” she said.</p><p>“Poppy, I…” he inched his hips back, sliding his cock out of her warm body but still holding her against him.</p><p>“No,” she begged, hands tightening against him. “Tora, don’t stop.”</p><p>“Fuck, Poppy. I’m not gonna keep going while you’re…”</p><p>“Please. I need this. I don’t want to lose you.”</p><p>“Hey,” he said, his voice rough. “I already <em>told </em>ya. <em>You ain’t losing me.</em> I’m yours.” He wished they had more than one night. Wished he had time to make her understand, really understand.</p><p>He pulled her tight against him.</p><p>“Promise me,” she said, her voice muffled, her lips still against his torso.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said.</p><p>“Say it.”</p><p>“Christ, woman. I promise.” He rested his chin on the top of her head.</p><p>“Okay,” Poppy whispered against him.</p><p>“Aren’t ya gonna promise, too?” he said, half joking and half really wanting her to.</p><p>“I promise,” Poppy murmured. “I already made up my mind about you, Tora. I’m not going anywhere.” She sniffled, and pulled back, and tilted her face up to his. Kissed him, then sniffled again and rolled out of bed.</p><p>“Where you going?” Tora asked, rising up on an elbow.</p><p>“Blow my nose,” Poppy mumbled.</p><p>He watched her walk away. She was gone a long moment; he removed the condom. Then she returned. She crawled under the blankets and held them up to invite him to join her. He slid beneath and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her tight against him.</p><p>“Can we keep going?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said. “In a moment.” He eased his hand along her side, waited a second, and trailed his fingers feather-light along her ticklish spot. Poppy squirmed against him.</p><p>He caught her, pinned her to him, and tickled her again.</p><p>“Tora!” Poppy squealed, legs kicking as her shoulders tensed.</p><p>“Uh-huh?”</p><p>“Stop!”</p><p>“Stop what?”</p><p>Maybe he was enjoying himself a little too much. But in a moment like that it was good to hear her laugh. Better than seeing her cry.</p><p>She wrapped her hand around his and squeezed, then pushed herself up and glared at him with her famous ice-cold gaze.</p><p>“Shit,” he chuckled.</p><p>“<em>Stop</em>,” Poppy commanded.</p><p>“Or what?”</p><p>“Or your girlfriend will be mad at you, that’s what.”</p><p>“Fuck, Bobby. You don’t gotta warn me twice.”</p><p>“You’re done?”</p><p>“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m done.” He twisted his hand free of her grip and ran it down her body, firmly, not tickling. Ignored her preemptive flinch; ran his hand back up to cup her cheek and kiss her softly.</p><p>From there one thing led to another.</p><p>Their kisses deepened. His hands moved slow, and so did hers. They surrendered to each other completely. His shaft grew hard again. He found another condom and made love to her slowly, tenderly, carefully.</p><p>They breathed together; moaned together. Tora didn’t know or care how long it lasted. Each powerful moment felt like a whole world. </p><p>When he finally finished, he stayed inside her for long minutes. Not willing to untangle their bodies.</p><p>Not willing to let her go.</p><p>*</p><p>“I should go,” Tora grumbled, as the first pearly hint of dawn brightened her window.</p><p>Poppy sniffled and buried her face against his bare chest. He held the back of her head and clenched his jaw.</p><p>“I gotta pack,” he added.</p><p>“I know,” she mumbled, but she pressed her face harder against him and drew a shaky breath.</p><p>Drawing the moment out wasn’t going to make it easier. He didn’t know how he could say goodbye. If he found the strength to get out of bed, could he also find the strength to walk out the door?</p><p>He couldn’t draw it out. Couldn’t linger. It would only get more difficult. It was already hard enough.</p><p>He tightened his grip and inhaled her smell. Closed his eyes and let a moment pass. He ran his thumb across one of her shoulders and let his mind, for one minute, go blank. Not trying to memorize the moment—not trying to appreciate what he was about to lose—not trying to say goodbye.</p><p>Just, for a few counts, lying in peace and enjoying what happiness felt like.</p><p>“Do me a favor,” Tora whispered.</p><p>“Anything,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Don’t get out of bed until I’m gone,” he said.</p><p>“I…”</p><p>He lifted his hand and pressed a finger to her lips, his expression flat and drawn.</p><p>“Poppy,” Tora said. “Please. Don’t. I fuckin’ can’t.”</p><p>A moment passed. She blinked away tears; he gritted his teeth when he noticed them. At last, she nodded. He gulped, drew a breath.</p><p>Briefly, fleetingly fast, he pressed his lips against her forehead.</p><p>Then he let go of her and rolled over. Stood up. Blinked rapidly against his own emotions. Pulled on his clothes as fast as he could. He strode to the doorway and froze.</p><p>Looked over his shoulder. Poppy watched him, her hand pressed against his mouth. He opened his lips to say goodbye, and found a ball of emotion in his throat, preventing him from speaking.</p><p>He lifted his own hand to his face and tapped his fingers against his lips in a silent farewell.</p><p>Before he could see her response, before she could see him lose all control...</p><p>Tora left.</p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Socks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long wait and the short chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From first light until 11 am wasn’t that much time. Tora slept for an hour, and nearly snapped his phone in half when the alarm woke him up. Groggily, he hunted through his apartment for bags and began to stuff belongings in incoherently.</p><p>A drawer of clothes into a duffel bag. A backpack of weapons. His phone charger into the backpack’s front zippered pocket. He hesitated over the paintings Poppylan had made for him, then decided to leave them. He didn’t need questions. Packing artwork was too out of character for him to get away with it.</p><p>No guitar; too bulky. No video games; he didn’t know where the fuck he was going. His bathroom’s contents went into a plastic shopping bag: toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant, nail clippers with a few specks of rust on them.</p><p>He nearly got into a car crash on his way to Vincent’s because he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He was too tired to react to the team Vincent had assembled for him, except to recognize—in a blank, mindless sort of way—that it was both good and bad.</p><p>He grunted at Scharch and ignored Brian’s attempt at a fist bump, then crawled into the back of the van and promptly fell back asleep.</p><p>For a man who trusted almost no one and always watched his back, he slept deeply. The van cruised all the way to Tavan, then parked in front of one of the many Balthuman properties in the port city.</p><p>“Bro,” Brian said. “Bro? Big bro.”</p><p>Tora’s eyes cracked open. He cleared his throat and sat up slowly, twisting his neck to stretch out a crick.</p><p>“Time is it?” Tora muttered.</p><p>“Almost four,” Brian said. “We’re here.”</p><p>“Time to crack some skulls,” Scharch said cheerfully.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” Tora said. He ignored Scharch’s glare and swung open the van door, hopping out and looking around.</p><p>They were parked in front of a crumbling townhouse in Tavan’s red-light district. Home, for who knew how long. They grabbed the bags and approached the door. There was an awkward pause as he waited for one of the other men to unlock it, then remembered that Vincent had handed him the key before they left. He’d been so tired the memory was little more than a blur. Tora dug it out and unlocked the house.</p><p>“So how are we doing this?” Scharch asked. “Dividing up the hit list? Going together one at a time?”</p><p>Brian gulped. It was no secret that Scharch and Tora outranked him significantly, both in status and body count.</p><p>“Calm the fuck down,” Tora grumbled. “We’ll start later tonight. Ten. Do whatever the fuck you want until then.”</p><p>He padded through the house. The furniture was simple and cheap, but serviceable. The place was clean and stocked with necessities. He ignored the first-floor bedroom, wanting something further from the door in case they were attacked. The second floor had a bedroom with windows just big enough for him to climb out of, in a pinch. Tora threw his bags onto the bed to claim it as his own. He felt grimy from the car ride, and pissed at leaving Poppy. He wasn't up for a shower, but he did want to change. He unzipped the duffel bag and hunted through it.</p><p>Socks. He hadn’t packed any socks. The fuck? He dumped out all the clothes and scowled at them. The fuck kind of packing job was this?</p><p>A knock on the door.</p><p>“What?” Tora asked, crumpling up his shirts and shoving them back inside the bag.</p><p>“Bro?” Brian opened the door a foot and poked his head through.</p><p>“Yeah," Tora said.</p><p>“So, um. Tonight. What are we…”</p><p>“I’ll take care of it” Tora said, his voice sharper than he meant it to be. “Just do what I say and keep your fucking head down.” He picked up a hoodie and his skull necklace fell out of it. Tora picked up both and crammed them back into his bag. </p><p>He'd brought fucking <em>nail </em>clippers, and no socks. He hadn't expected to go shopping on this little 'vacation,' but it looked like he'd have to.</p><p>“Bro?” Brian asked. The younger man rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor nervously.</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Tora didn’t want to talk to Brian. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted a few hours of peace.</p><p>“It’s just, I never… killed anyone. I…”</p><p>Tora blinked, then narrowed his golden eyes.</p><p>“Brian,” he said, voice flat.</p><p>“Yeah, bro?” Brian said hopefully.</p><p>“Get the fuck outta my room.”</p><p>Brian winced and scuttled away, closing the door behind him. Tora shook his head and pulled out his phone, then brought up his text conversation with “Bob.”</p><p><em>Just got in. Forgot to pack my fucking socks.</em> He hesitated, thumb over the send button, then added: <em>Hope you got some sleep.</em></p>
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<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Shopping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING!!!!</p><p>I switched from 'no archive warnings apply' because this chapter DOES HAVE some icky violence. If that bothers you but you still want to read this, you can avoid it by skipping to the first section break.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>A long, pained whimper crept out of the bathroom. A sharp cry followed it, and then Scharch’s voice, his words too soft to make out.</p><p>Tora ignored the sounds and looked around the man’s bedroom. An unmade bed, an overflowing laundry basket. Presumably, he was looking for the guy’s criminal contacts. Or for the missing Balthuman money.</p><p>But to be real, he didn’t give a shit about any of that. Instead, he wrenched open the top drawer of the dresser.</p><p>Balled up boxers. Nope. Slammed it shut and tried the next drawer down.</p><p>Socks. Half unmatched and loose; but half had pairs. Plain grey ankle socks, all of them. Simple and straightforward.</p><p>“Well, well,” Scharch said, from the bathroom. “I don’t <em>think</em> that’s meant to bend that way, do you?”</p><p>Tora shook his head, lips pressed tight together. He picked up one pair of socks, then noticed one of the bottles on top of the cluttered dresser.</p><p>
  <em>Anti-fungal powder.</em>
</p><p>He looked at the socks he was holding and grimaced, then dropped them back into the drawer. Wiped his hands on his pants and meandered back to the bathroom.</p><p>Well, the target was still alive.</p><p>For a moment, slipping into old habits, Tora found himself excusing Scharch’s behavior. After all, the bloody fucker on the floor had gone against Vincent, against Balthuman. He’d <em>known </em>the risks and had done it anyways. <em>Deserved</em> what was coming for him.</p><p>But that train of thought didn’t last more than a second before it sickened in Tora’s stomach. Vincent was the devil. This asshole was clearly no saint, but it wasn’t like he’d screwed over anyone with a heart.</p><p>“You’re done,” Tora announced to Scharch.</p><p>Scharch blinked at his prey, then swiveled his head to peer up at Tora.</p><p>“Not quite,” Scharch said.</p><p>“Said you’re done. Made the point. Let’s go.”</p><p>A look of determination set into Scharch’s face. His chin jutted forward; his eyes narrowed. Tora took a step towards him, and Scharch’s upper lip twitched up in a sneer. But Tora won: Scharch let go of the guy’s shoulder. His victim slumped forward with a groan.</p><p>“Look at that,” Scharch told his victim, his tone like a reprimanding parent. “You’ve gotten blood all over my shirt.”</p><p>*</p><p>One day later. Tora stomped into a department store, the electric doors inching aside just fast enough to let his broad shoulders through. Brian trotted behind him.</p><p>One glare from Tora and the nearest employee scampered. A minute later, and he’d scared off a small family. He wasn’t <em>trying </em>to, but fuck. Not like he could help his face.</p><p>Where the fuck was it? The store was damned huge. He had no idea where he was headed. He’d made it halfway around the perimeter before he saw the sign for the men’s section.</p><p>“Bro, what’s the plan?” Brian whispered. “Who’s the target? We doing this in public, or…?”</p><p>“The fuck?” Tora muttered, glancing over his shoulder at Brian.</p><p>Brian scanned the shop, chin jutted out and shoulders tense, trying to look ready. He reached up and readjusted his backwards baseball cap, eyes skimming from side to side.</p><p>“Here’s the plan,” Tora growled. “Ya see that aisle?”</p><p>Brian nodded jerkily.</p><p>“Follow me,” Tora growled. He stalked forward, Brian at his heels.</p><p>He grabbed a six-pack of plain socks, nodded at Brian, and headed towards the checkout.</p><p>“What is that? A diversion?” Brian hissed.</p><p>Tora just rolled his eyes.</p><p>“We’re not working right now,” Tora informed him at last.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>They made it another aisle closer to the front before Brian spoke up again.</p><p>“So, um, if we’re really just here to shop…” Brian cleared his throat. “Uh, mind if I look at the games?”</p><p>A moment’s hesitation.</p><p>“Ah, fuck it. Not like I have anything better to do,” Tora muttered. He spun on his heel.</p><p>He followed Brian to the video games, then slipped a few aisles over and considered a cheap dart board. He picked it up and walked a few feet, then turned around and put it back.</p><p>Walked further away. Found himself in an aisle with a little too much glitter and bright colors.</p><p>A pre-teen girl saw him, blushed, and retreated to safety.</p><p>“yeah, fuck off,” Tora muttered under his breath, too quietly to be heard. He reached forward and picked up a keychain with a bug-eyed hamster on it. Turned it over and sighed, glanced around. Nobody there. He couldn’t exactly bring the thing to check out, not with Brian there.</p><p>He put it in his pocket with a shrug, and went to find Brian. Maybe he'd send it to Poppy in the mail.</p><p>*</p><p>Tora pressed the phone closer to his ear and folded his other arm across his chest. The day wavered between mild and chilly as slips of cloud blew across the sun, but he only wore a t-shirt.</p><p> He’d been in Tavan for almost a week now. He’d talked with Poppy on the phone every day, but most of the conversations were short, discrete. Only a few stolen minutes here and there.</p><p>He wasn’t a big talker; it was easier to communicate with her when they were together, in person. He longed to touch her, hold her, even just see her. It wasn’t even a sexual desire, not that he didn’t miss that, too. But he didn’t know how to express himself when all he had were spoken words.</p><p>“So what’s new with you?” Poppy said.</p><p>Tora frowned.</p><p>He could see the ocean from the park he was sitting in—a less risky location than talking to her in the townhome.</p><p>But looking at the ocean reminded him of the night he'd become her boyfriend, not that long ago. Different shore, same water. He wasn’t sure whether it made him feel closer to her or further away.</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy said.</p><p>He realized he hadn’t answered her question.</p><p>“Nothin’,” he said. “Working. And being bored as fuck.”</p><p>“You’re settled in okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. <em>You</em> doing okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” she said.</p><p>He considered her tone for a moment. Bubbly and upbeat, but he knew Poppy better than that. Something else lurked below the surface.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Tora asked. He squinted at a cargo ship, a hazy block of colors sitting tall on the horizon.</p><p>“No, it’s fine,” Poppy insisted.</p><p>“C’mon. Let it out.”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to worry.”</p><p>He snorted. “You can’t say shit like <em>that</em> and expect me not to.”</p><p>He heard her sigh.</p><p>“Well, it’s just… the. You know. Situation here.”</p><p>“Situation.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Ya mean Quincey’s old man?”</p><p>“Tora. I don’t mean to be difficult, but do you think we could talk about something else? It was a long day.”</p><p>“Fuck, Bobby. You can’t drop that shit and…”</p><p>“Quincey’s taking care of it. I just want to relax with you. Please?”</p><p>He glowered at the water, clenched his teeth together, and exhaled hard.</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>.”</p><p>“I don’t want to make you mad, but…”</p><p>“I’m not mad,” he said.</p><p>“You <em>sound </em>mad.”</p><p>“Not at you,” Tora muttered.</p><p>“I’m not trying to keep you in the dark,” Poppy said. “I just…”</p><p>“It’s fine. I’ll get Quincey to tell me. So what d’you wanna talk about.” His voice was flat, not phrasing the question like a real inquiry.</p><p>“Well, um. I’ve been thinking about stuff we could do together?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>“Wanna watch a movie? Over the phone? We could put on the same one.”</p><p>He rubbed his forehead.</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Tora agreed.</p><p>“And I thought maybe later we could try a… video call?”</p><p>“’Kay.”</p><p>“I mean in private?”</p><p>“’course it’d be in private,” he said.</p><p>“No, I mean. Like. <em>In private.</em> You know.”</p><p>He frowned and blinked, then tucked his free hand under his other arm; his fingers were getting too cold.</p><p>“What, you wanna fuck over the phone?” Tora said bluntly.</p><p>“I… well, that’s…” Poppy’s voice was choked and high-pitched. He could picture her blushing.</p><p>“Damn, sweetheart,” Tora murmured. “ ’Course.”</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. On Camera</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They scheduled a video call for 11 pm on a Saturday night. Tora locked the door to his room and put in an earpiece so nobody would hear Poppy’s voice.</p><p>Then he waited for her to call, like she’d said she would.</p><p>He tugged back his hair and tied it away from his face, then walked the length of the room a few times. He scratched his shoulder and started to take off his shirt, then dragged it back down. How were you supposed to get ready for something like this?</p><p>10:58. 11:00. 11:01.</p><p>He stared at his phone moodily.</p><p>A notification popped on screen. His heart thumped loud in his chest, muscles tensing for a moment in anticipation and—strangely—nerves. But it was only Gyu sending a dumbass meme.</p><p><em>You good? </em>He texted her when the clock shifted to 11:03.</p><p>11:04, she responded: <em>sorry, almost ready.</em></p><p>What was she <em>doing? </em>11:05, 11:06, and then his phone started to ring, the noise loud in his earpiece. Incoming video call. He gulped and lifted his thumb to slide the call open.</p><p>Why did he have fucking <em>nerves</em> about this? He was excited, certainly. Hadn’t seen her body in too long. Memories only did so much. But this was new territory. Could he get her off over a video call? Would it be awkward, too distant?</p><p>He had just enough time to think—not for the first time—that he barely recognized himself anymore; that he was an entirely different man with Poppy in his life than he had been before. Softer. Less fast, less hard, less brutal. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing. It just was what it was.</p><p>And then the screen opened up to reveal her.</p><p>*</p><p>Poppy was on her laptop; she didn’t have to hold a phone up like he did. From the view on his phone, he guessed it was perched halfway down her bed, with her sitting nervously up by the pillows. A lamp to one side illuminated her, curving across her creamy skin and leaving deep shadows where it could not reach. She looked like a painting, mysterious and tempting in the half-light. She didn’t need makeup, but she was wearing it; perhaps a bit more dramatically than usual. Smokier eyes. Darker lips.</p><p>“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, so softly the sound wouldn’t travel outside his room to where Scharch or Brian might hear.</p><p>She sat with her thick legs bent beneath her and to the side. Shorts so short they were practically panties rode up high on her thighs. A silky red camisole clung to her chest and hung loosely down from there. He could just see her nipples poking at the thin fabric, bright points that the lamplight caught on. Her hair fell in dark waves behind her narrow shoulders.</p><p>Tora cleared his throat. Speechless. She was heaven on earth.</p><p>“Hi,” Poppy squeaked. Her chest rose and fell; a nervous breath.</p><p>“You look fucking <em>good</em>,” he whispered.</p><p>“So do you,” she said, reaching a hand up self-consciously to check her hair.</p><p>“Naw,” he said, with a half-smile.</p><p>“Anyways,” said Poppy, right as he said “So…”</p><p>They both stopped and waited for the other to go on. She giggled and shifted her weight to the other side.</p><p>It occurred to him that she couldn’t really know where his eyes were pointed. Not that her face wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, but if he stared at the way that thin silk fabric stretched tight across her tits, she wouldn’t know. That was good, because he could hardly help himself.</p><p>“How do we do this?” Poppy said.</p><p>“You could take off ya shirt,” he suggested, his voice deeper and laced with a hunger he hadn’t meant to communicate.</p><p>Poppy fingered the hem of the camisole. Her cheeks reddened and she began to draw it up over her body. Tora exhaled slowly and brought his phone closer to his face.</p><p>“Shit,” he whispered. “Wish I could touch you.”</p><p>“How?” Poppy asked, as she finished pulling the shirt over her head and discarded it beside her on the bed.</p><p>He licked his bottom lip, then bit it.</p><p>“Uh…” dirty talk was one thing. Trying to give a play by play was another. “I’d… can you, uh… squeeze…”</p><p>“Hm.” Poppy trailed a finger up from the hem of her shorts between her breasts, to linger at the base of her neck. She cleared her throat, then dropped a hand to cover the view, then lifted it again hesitatingly.</p><p>Was she feeling self-conscious? He didn’t understand for a second how she didn’t get it. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, at least to Tora. But she’d made it clear she still didn’t believe him when he said that.</p><p>“I missed looking at you,” he murmured.</p><p>She smiled, looking down.</p><p>“Me too,” Poppy said. “I think I’d feel better if you took off your shirt, too?”</p><p>“Oh. Right.”</p><p>He started to pull it up, then realized he couldn’t disrobe while still holding his phone.</p><p>“Hold up,” Tora said. He put the phone on his bed and ripped the shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. He picked up the phone again and took a deep breath, holding it out a little so she could get a decent view of him. He sat back on his bed.</p><p>“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry if I’m being silly.”</p><p>“Don’t start apologizing, P…” he cut himself off with a wince. He was sure nobody could hear him, but saying her name out loud in the house was just about the worst thing he could do. He cleared his throat and amended: “sweetheart. Don’t apologize, sweetheart.”</p><p>She lowered her hand and squeezed one of her tits.</p><p>His gold eyes narrowed. Tora’s lips parted slightly, transfixed by the vision before him.</p><p>“Could you pinch…” Tora breathed.</p><p>“Like that?” Poppy asked, staring straight into the camera for one blissful moment.</p><p>“…yeah,” he croaked.</p><p>She covered herself again with her hands for a moment, then let out a small laugh.</p><p>“Sorry. I want to do this, really. You have no idea how long I spent, just…”</p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked when she trailed off.</p><p>“I just feel silly. Like I must look stupid.”</p><p>“Stupid?” Tora asked. “Jesus, fuck. If you knew what you were doing to me.”</p><p>“Tell me,” she said.</p><p>“Hold on. I’ll show ya.”</p><p>He rose to his knees and pushed his sweatpants down, then flipped the phone camera to show her what he was talking about. The screen caught his abs cutting down into a V, then the waistband of his boxers.</p><p>And then the erect tent of the fabric, his aching rod stiffly jutting out a little to the left. His head prodded angrily against the fabric, desperate for relief.</p><p>“Maybe you could take those off, too…?” Poppy murmured.</p><p>“Sweetheart,” he groaned, “you <em>know</em> I’ll do anything you fucking ask.”</p><p>He started to push down the waistband. He pushed his big cock to the side, easing the fabric over it. It sprang back, free and rigid, eager to be touched.</p><p>One of Poppy’s hands trailed low, rubbing softly across her mound and slipping beneath the waistband of her own shorts. Tora’s lips curled up at the corner at the sight of her touching herself. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, too.</p><p>“Can you hold the phone so I can see your face and your, you know? At the same time?” Poppy asked.</p><p>“I dunno,” he told her honestly, but he reversed the camera and tried, holding it over his head and angling down. That worked, sort of, but then he couldn’t watch her as closely. <em>That</em> was a problem for him.</p><p>Maybe he needed to ask Gyu to ship him a laptop or something.</p><p>“You touching yourself?” he asked her.</p><p>“Yeah. Wish I was touching <em>you</em>, though,” she said.</p><p>He chuckled at that. That, and how red her face burned.</p><p>“Fuck. Me too. Wouldn’t last too long if you were here now, though,” he informed her.</p><p>“Oh?” she asked.</p><p>He tightened his hand on himself and began to stroke his length. He peered up at his phone screen, studying how Poppy’s own hand was buried up to wrist inside her shorts. He liked thinking about where her fingers were; could tell her rhythm by the way her forearm moved.</p><p>“No,” he grunted softly. “I’d get your sweet pussy wet and then I’d fuck you, hard.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t take your time?” she asked, tilting her head back and watching her laptop screen.</p><p>Tora exhaled, his fingers rubbing at his head.</p><p>“No,” he told her, his voice low. “I want you too fuckin’ bad to take my time. I couldn’t hold myself back.”</p><p>“Even if I asked you to?” she murmured.</p><p>“Christ,” Tora said. “’Course if you asked me to. I’d have to. But I wouldn’t wanna.”</p><p>“Oh,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Not at first,” he amended. “I’d need ya too bad. But after, sure. After, I’d kiss you all over. And when I was ready again, I’d fuck you slow.”</p><p>“I thought it was all about the buildup,” Poppy said. Her voice was tight and high, a little strained. He could tell her hand was moving faster. “But I guess it’s the aftermath, huh?”</p><p>“It’s the whole fucking thing,” he said. “Can you take those damn shorts off?”</p><p>“Say please,” she whispered.</p><p>“Please,” he rasped.</p><p>She drew her hand out of herself, her fingers glistening lightly in the lamplight. Poppy rose to her knees and pulled her shorts down over her ass; sat and pushed them over her knees and ankles. She looked straight into the camera and squeezed her tits.</p><p>“Jesus, fuck,” Tora moaned.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” she informed him. Then her hand slid between her thighs again.</p><p>“What about you?” he said, his own husky voice strained, his hand beginning to speed back up.</p><p>“What about me?” Poppy whispered.</p><p>“What would <em>you</em> do? If we were together?”</p><p>“Mmm….” Poppy said. Her eyes flickered shut a moment, then wide again. “I…”</p><p>He watched the movement of her wrist. Watched her fingers disappear inside her. Damn.</p><p>“I…” she continued, after a moment. Her fingers slowed, and then she pulled her hand out. He watched her play slowly with her clit, considering this. He was beyond glad she’d gotten over her shyness, or at least set it to the side for a moment. He was sure as hell enjoying the show.</p><p>“You?” he prodded.</p><p>“I’d climb on your lap and ride you until you flipped me over,” she told him.</p><p>“Who’s taking their time now?” he growled, pleased at her answer.</p><p>“Mmmnnn…” she answered.</p><p>“Who says I’d flip you over?” he added. “I like having you on top. Like how your tits bounce when you ride me.”</p><p>“Not for long,” she shot back. “You like it, but you can’t help yourself.”</p><p>“True,” he moaned. “Fuck. <em>Fuck. </em>I wish I could…”</p><p>“Believe me…” she said.</p><p>“I want you so goddamned fucking bad,” he complained. “More’n I’ve ever wanted anything.”</p><p>“I know,” she said. “Me too.”</p><p>“Next time I see you, we aren’t getting out of bed the whole time.”</p><p>He regretted those words, in a way, the moment he said them. They were true, of course. He wanted to bury his cock inside her and hold her to him. Wanted to feel every inch of her, and mingle their breath and their bodies until he couldn’t even remember his own name, couldn’t think of anything but her. Wanted to hear her moan in his ear without a piece of metal and plastic having to transmit the noise.</p><p>But neither of them knew when <em>next time</em> would be. Saying it just highlighted the problem.</p><p>“Tora?” she murmured.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, as his hand stilled at the base of his full dick.</p><p>“Would it be weird if I. If I got a, uh, vibrator? Right now?”</p><p>“Course not,” he said. “I wanna watch you cum. Whatever helps make that happen.”</p><p>“Just keep talking to me,” she said. She left the bed for a moment, then returned.</p><p>“What d’you wanna hear?” Tora asked.</p><p>“What you want to do to me,” she said. “What you want me to do to you.”</p><p>“God,” he said. It was too easy. He didn’t even have to think or get creative. All he had to do was list the things he missed. “I wanna feel your hands wrapping around my neck. Feel ya nails digging into my back. The way you get all tense the moment my dick goes in you. Your mouth gets real small. The noise you make, like you’re tryin’ not to cry out and ya just can’t help it. I wanna feel how fucking <em>tight</em> and wet you are and the way you wrap your legs around me.”</p><p>He watched her eyes close on the screen, and her mouth part. How her back arched, jutting her chest towards the camera by accident.</p><p>His hand sped up. He wished he had lube, but when he’d packed to go away he hadn’t exactly been thinking ‘shit I need for jacking off.’ Even without it he pumped frantically at his thick shaft, eyes glued to the way Poppy moved, alone on her bed and thinking of him.</p><p>He came before she did, spilling himself all over his lower abdomen. He breathed hard, staring at the phone and watching, in a distant, blissed out way, as Poppy found ecstasy all on her own.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Unspoken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora could have spent the whole night on the call, just watching Poppy’s face and listening to her breathe. But Poppy had work the next morning, and wanted to get some rest. She blew him a kiss and exited the call.</p><p>He lay on his bed for a quarter hour, his abdomen wiped clean and his body still nude, staring blankly at the ceiling and trying very hard not to think.</p><p>Hunger, at last, interrupted. He rose with a groan and dressed slowly. It was just passed midnight, but somewhere would be open. It wasn’t as big a city as Narin, but Tavan was a real city nonetheless.</p><p>Scharch lounged in the hallway outside Tora’s room, leaning against the wall by the staircase to the lower level. Tora spared a glance and a thought for the man and shouldered passed him.</p><p>“Have fun?” Scharch said. “What, were you on some rent-a-whore website?”</p><p>Tora didn’t think. He spun and slammed Scharch against the wall, hard, the bar of his forearm pinning Scharch’s shoulders.</p><p>“The fuck you say to me?” Tora growled.</p><p>Scharch only smirked. Tora rammed his knee into the other man’s crotch.</p><p>“Creepy fuck,” he hissed, as Scharch slumped against Tora’s forearm. “Next time I catcha listening to my private shit, I’ll cut your ears off and make you eat ‘em.”</p><p>“oooh, scary,” Scharch drawled, his voice thin with pain.</p><p>Oh, how he wanted to hit the fucker again. But that was the last thing he needed right now. He slowly, slowly, uncurled his fist and took a deep breath. His teeth stayed clenched tight, his eyes lit with a fire from within.</p><p>“Are you going soft? Time was you’d have…” Scharch started to say.</p><p>“Yeah, fuck off,” Tora interrupted. He released his prey and stomped downstairs to the front door. There, the cool air greeted him and offered an escape.</p><p>He liked the city at midnight. Liked any city at midnight. <em>That </em>was where he belonged. Nobody gave him shit that late at night. They just crossed the street when they saw him coming. He walked faster than his natural gait, trying to leave Scharch’s words behind him.</p><p>The only things open by the townhome were bars and brothels. He walked past both, ignoring the assessing looks given to him by those on the hunt for work.</p><p>Six blocks later and he found a noodle shop. Golden light streamed out the window and a neon sign in the window advertised it was open. It was a tiny place, a counter and a couple of seats. The man behind the counter glanced up from his phone when Tora entered, blinked, then went back to scrolling. Tora grabbed a menu and sat in the back corner, where he could watch the door in case anybody came in.</p><p>Rule one of thughood: never leave your back exposed if you don’t have to.</p><p>*</p><p>The text from Quincey came when he was halfway through eating. He’d stayed in the shop, liking the low-volume rock music and the fact that it was away from the house. Away from Scharch.</p><p>
  <em>We should catch up sometime. Let me know when’s good.</em>
</p><p>Tora hesitated a moment, then took a sip of water and hit <em>call. </em></p><p>Here was the truth, if you wanted it: the whole time he’d been in Tavan, Quincey and Poppy had both kept pushing aside <em>something</em>. It was always <em>everything’s fine, </em>or <em>later, </em>or <em>it’s no big deal. </em></p><p>And Tora wasn’t an idiot. But out of—what? Helplessness? A fear of Vincent, or what Vincent would do to Poppy? Resignation to the fact that he was a dog and would never get more than table scraps? He’d been doing his best to trust them. If something were <em>really </em>wrong, he figured, Quincey would tell him.</p><p>But “<em>we should catch up sometime?”</em> That didn’t sound like Quincey. Not Quincey talking to Tora, anyways.</p><p>The phone rang three times before Quincey answered, even though he’d just sent the text.</p><p>“Honey, when I said sometime…” Quincey drawled into Tora’s ear.</p><p>“Enough. The fuck’s going on?” Tora’s growl covered the middle of Quincey’s sentence.</p><p>“…guess you <em>really</em> missed me,” Quincey finished.</p><p>“Fucking—”</p><p>“Did I catch you at a bad moment?” Quincey said. “You sound…”</p><p>“No.” Tora leaned back in his seat. “Just tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>“Well, not really anything—”</p><p>“Enough, Quinceton,” Tora pleaded. “You <em>both</em> keep sayin’ that. And I know you wanna tell me something.”</p><p>“Okay, okay. No need to get so serious. But promise you won’t flip out?”</p><p>“Christ. Not like I can fucking hit you through the phone,” Tora said. He reached one-handed into his pocket and fished out his wallet. He would have eaten more, but he couldn’t sit still. So he rummaged for enough cash to leave on the table.</p><p>“Alright. Well, the good news is, I convinced Dad that we want to ‘take it slow,’ and he’s okay with that.”</p><p>“…so?” Tora said, dropping the bills and shoving the wallet back into his pocket. He stood up and left the shop without a nod to the guy behind the counter.</p><p>“So, he’s okay without a formal commitment, but I guess he was worried it wasn’t, I don’t know, real…?”</p><p>“Jesus fucking… Quincey,” Tora growled.</p><p>“She’s going to stay in the guest room, okay?”</p><p>“The fuck are you—”</p><p>“Poppy’s moving in with me.”</p><p>There was silence on the line, from both ends. Tora stood outside the shop and breathed in the night air. Despite his proximity to the beach, there was no brine here: just gasoline, grease, piss, and sex.</p><p>A car backfired, a street over. A siren blared in the distance.</p><p>“Please say something,” Quincey said, his voice tinny through the phone speaker.</p><p>“<em>That’s </em>taking it slow,” Tora said, his tone flat.</p><p>“Compared with what dad wanted? Yeah.”</p><p>Tora stood in silence a moment longer. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it, and hung up the phone.</p><p>He started to walk back towards the house. Quincey called him back. He hit ignore, switched it to silent, and turned away from the house. Walked the other way.</p><p>His mind buzzed; he couldn’t think straight.</p><p>It wasn’t even the news, specifically. It was just everything. Thinking about it for a moment instead of pushing it away. About what it meant for Quincey and Poppy to go through, not just what it felt like to be away from her.</p><p>Wondering, about family events. Did Quincey put his arm around her? Hug her?</p><p>A vivid picture entered his head of the Balthuman heir lifting Poppy’s hand to his lips. Then of something worse, more intimate. He knew it meant nothing; <em>trusted</em> neither of them would betray him; trusted neither of them cared about each other.</p><p><em>But what if they did? </em>A small voice muttered at the back of his head. <em>Or what if they both got drunk, and something happened?</em></p><p>
  <em>It would be so easy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Living together. </em>
</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora screamed suddenly. The sound reverberated through the dark, empty street. He turned back towards the house. There was nothing for him outside, nothing but trouble. He <em>almost</em> wanted to find it. Get into a fight in some alleyway. Hunt down another item on Vincent’s hit list.</p><p>Nothing but trouble. It was better to go inside.</p><p>*</p><p>When he returned home, the first thing he did was check that his private items hadn’t been fucked with. He’d unscrewed one of the wall outlets and tucked a few things back there. Paranoid, maybe, but in his line of work it never hurt to be careful.</p><p>Everything was still there. The strawberry hair tie he’d unwittingly brought with him. A letter he was working on with every intent of sending it to her, even though it probably belonged in the trash. His handwriting was shit and he was no good at that kind of thing.</p><p>The shoplifted hamster keychain.</p><p>“Fucking stupid,” he muttered under his breath, looking at all of it.</p><p>If he were a smart man, Tora thought, he’d just cut and run. Nobody was worth all this. The turmoil, the stress, the uncertainty, the panic, the fear. Fuck.</p><p>But she was, wasn’t she?</p><p>He shoved all back into the wall space behind the outlet and screwed the cap on, then collapsed face forward onto his bed and let out a muffled groan.</p><p>How many times had he told Poppy that they’d find a way out of it? But the truth was, he was no closer to an answer than he’d been when Vincent first found out about her heritage. And Quincey hadn’t suggested anything, either.</p><p>*</p><p>So another week passed in Tavan, like slow motion, every second painful and unnecessary. Scharch and Tora ignored each other apart from work. He talked with Poppy every day, both through texts and calls.</p><p>He did not mention her moving in with Quincey.</p><p>Neither did she. He wondered if <em>she</em> knew that he knew.</p><p>He wondered a lot of things.</p><p>But he didn’t bring them up. Sometimes he thought about it, but the words lodged in his throat and stayed there, immobile, choking him until the subject changed. He pushed his fears down, down, further down, and still they kept creeping up around him.</p><p>And then, with no warning, Poppy called him one day at 2 pm.</p><p>“Hey,” Tora said, biting his tongue on <em>sweetheart</em> because he was in the townhome’s kitchen.</p><p>“Tora? Are you busy?”</p><p>“Nah. S’goin on?”</p><p>There was a pause. He could hear her draw in a deep breath. There was a lot of noise behind her; the muffled sounds of a crowd.</p><p>“I’m with Quincey. We’re at the Tavan airport,” she said. “Can you come meet us?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Chapter 36</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oop</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re <em>what?”</em> Tora snapped into the phone.</p><p>“I said, I’m at the airport with Quincey. We—”</p><p>“I <em>heard</em> you,” he said. “Why the <em>fuck</em> are…”</p><p>“Can you just come? Now?” Poppy said, her voice flat.</p><p>His mouth set in a firm line.</p><p>“Don’t move,” Tora growled. He hung up the phone.</p><p><em>What. The. Fuck. Was. Happening. </em>And why was he always the last goddamned one to know.</p><p>He wrenched the door shut behind him and walked outside pulling up the map app on his phone as he went. His gaze swept across the street.</p><p>“Fucking bullshit,” Tora muttered under his breath. Where the hell was the van Vincent had given them for their mission?</p><p>He turned around and ran back to the house, and wrenched the door open.</p><p>“Brian. Scharch,” he bellowed. “Where the fuck is the van?”</p><p>“What?” Brian yelled, from upstairs.</p><p>“The <em>fucking van, </em>dipshit,” Tora roared.</p><p>“Scharch took it. Boss called him with a job,” Brian yelled back.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora snapped. “Fuck, <em>fuck, </em>FUCK.” He slammed the door shut so hard it shook in the frame, and looked down at his phone.</p><p>He called a ride.</p><p>“Goddamned… fucking…” he mumbled, typing <em>airport</em> for destination.</p><p>His fingers slipped. <em>Airpit. </em>He resisted the urge to slam the phone onto the ground, and retyped it.</p><p>He paced as the app spun, then connected him with a driver. Ten minutes? Ten damned minutes?</p><p>He called Quincey.</p><p>Not Poppy. Why?</p><p>Because he could yell at Quincey right now without feeling guilty.</p><p>“We’re at gate D,” Quincey said when he picked up.</p><p>“Jesus fucking—Quincey, what the <em>fucking hell</em> are ya doing at…”</p><p>“Are you on the way?”</p><p>“I’m waiting for a, a… no, you <em>fucking dick</em>, you got on a damn <em>plane</em> and didn’t think to <em>tell me</em>?”</p><p>“Tora…”</p><p>“What, ya <em>trip </em>and fall onto a flight? Christ, Quince!”</p><p>“Honey, could you stop yelling for half a second? I didn’t have a choice.”</p><p>“The hell you didn’t… I’m gonna beat the shit out of you,” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“No, you aren’t,” Quincey snapped. “We didn’t <em>tell you</em> because we knew you’d go all ‘Tora’ and throw a temper tantrum.”</p><p>His head wrenched back, his jaw jutting forward.</p><p>“I do <em>not…” </em>he snapped.</p><p>“Look,” Quincey said. “It was <em>important</em> that nobody knew this was happening. And if I told you two days ago what we were planning, <em>tell</em> me you wouldn’t have tried to stop us.”</p><p>Tora wanted to keep yelling, but he didn’t. He was speechless. His mouth moved wordlessly. He made a disgruntled, angry sort of noise into the speaker of the phone.</p><p>“You’ll get over it,” Quincey said dryly. “How far away are you?”</p><p>“<em>I</em> don’t fucking know. I’m waiting for a damned car. Twenty minutes?”</p><p>“Meet us by the elevator inside the gate.”</p><p>“Like fuck. Meet me outside at the goddamned pick up.”</p><p>“We’re not getting in the car, Tora. Hold on, Poppy wants to talk to…”</p><p>“Tell her no,” he growled.</p><p>He was a second from exploding: <em>way</em> too damned mad to talk to her. He hung up.</p><p>The car was only two minutes away. He ran his hands through his hair and exhaled. His mouth was dry, his palms clammy.</p><p><em>You’re just mad they didn’t tell ya</em>, he told himself. <em>You’re just freaking out cuz you’re pissed. Nothing’s wrong.</em></p><p>
  <em>It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine.</em>
</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“Airport,” he snapped, climbing into the back of the car. “Fast.”</p><p>“I go the speed limit,” said the driver.</p><p>“Like fuck you…” Tora glared.</p><p>“You wanna get out?” the guy asked. “Or you wanna ride?”</p><p>“Jesus Christ. Just drive,” Tora snapped. He suppressed the urge to throw the guy out of his car face-first and drive himself: he was <em>just going to the airport</em>. No rush.</p><p><em>Stop fucking panicking</em>. <em>Enough.</em></p><p>He exhaled hard again, and drew in a deep breath, swelling his muscular chest. He stared hard at his texts to Poppy.</p><p><em>Why didn’t you tell me</em>, he wrote at last.</p><p>It said <em>read</em> immediately. A minute passed before she responded.</p><p><em>I didn’t want to worry you</em>, she wrote.</p><p>“Yeah, good fucking plan,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p><em>Not how this works</em>, he typed back. <em>You gotta tell me shit. </em></p><p><em>I’m sorry I made you mad</em>, she wrote. <em>Can we talk about this later, though</em>?</p><p>He didn't respond. Angrily, he turned his phone off altogether. Groaned, and realized that was a bad plan. He turned it back on. No new messages.</p><p>Opened the ride app and followed their progress on the little map. Eight minutes to the airport.</p><p>Five minutes. Three minutes.</p><p>“What gate?”</p><p>“D,” Tora said. He stared resolutely out the window, hands tapping on his knees, then clenching together in fists.</p><p>They pulled into the long, convoluted round-about of the airport, and slowly rolled through the heavy traffic there.</p><p>Hold up. Was that the fucking van? The van Scharch had taken?</p><p>He frantically opened the phone to call Quincey, peering through the window and trying to see the license plate; he couldn’t make it out.</p><p>No answer.</p><p>Called Poppy.</p><p>“Sir, we’re here,” the driver said.</p><p>
  <em>No answer. </em>
</p><p>The van slowly pulled away. He caught a clear glimpse of the plate long enough to read the first three characters: a match. </p><p>“I’m gonna need your car,” Tora informed the driver. “Better if ya don’t fight back.”</p><p>*</p><p>Admittedly, it caused a bit of a scene to wrestle the driver out of the car and speed off. Luckily, Tora worked fast. He sped in the direction the van had gone, driving aggressively and recklessly.</p><p>“Asshole,” someone yelled as he floored past a pedestrian.</p><p>Tora ignored this, and tried calling Poppy again.</p><p>And then Quincey.</p><p>Again, no answer.</p><p>“Pick up,” he pleaded. “Pick the fuck up,” he said, his voice dropping. “Jesus. Fuck. I’ll do anything.”</p><p>He called again, both of them, and left a brief and desperate message. <em>Call me back, now.</em></p><p>He’d made good time with his aggressive driving. He caught up to the van just as it merged onto the highway. Good. He’d stolen the car so publicly that the cops would be after him before long. Whatever was going on, he didn’t have long to fix it.</p><p>He tailed the van, just far enough behind that he hoped Scharch wouldn’t notice.</p><p>Because, yeah: now that he could see clearly, the license plate was <em>entirely</em> the same. He could come up with alternate explanations, if he wanted to, but he'd just be making himself feel better. The most obvious explanation was usually true. A call from the boss, two phones unanswered, and the van at the airport? What else <em>could </em>that mean.</p><p>Why the hell hadn’t he brought his gun.</p><p>And what the <em>fuck</em> was going on.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. The Negotiation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I mean uhhhh warning for like... it's Scharch? Scharch things happen? Idk how to even put content warnings on this it's just rough<br/>Also if anybody feels the urge to complain about the cliff hanger on this one just know that I considered ending this chapter even earlier and I DIDN'T because I am not TOTALLY MORALLY CORRUPT, just like, a little bit?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knew he was in trouble when the van switched lanes and merged onto exit 18. Tora swore as he followed.</p><p>The exit didn’t go back to Tavan. It coiled tightly to the right, forcing the van and Tora’s stolen car to slow down as they both drifted around the corner.</p><p>And then: it spat them back out on a different highway, pointed towards Narin City.</p><p>He stopped cussing. He was too mad to cuss. He just followed from a distance, his knuckles white and his mouth set in a grim line. In a failing attempt to keep himself calm, he pictured everything he was going to do to Scharch.</p><p>The problem was, he had no clue how to <em>catch</em> the damn bastard first.</p><p>No gun to shoot out the tires. Could he cut in front, pin Scharch, and run him off the road? Crash bad enough to make it so Scharch couldn’t drive away? No. Bad ideas. Godawful fucking <em>shitty </em>ideas. He might not have cared what happened to him, but he was sure Poppy and Quincey were in the van. Probably in the back, tied up and not wearing seatbelts. He wasn’t going to risk something that could get them hurt, or even killed.</p><p>How to stop the van without <em>damaging </em>the van?                                                                                                                   </p><p>
  <em>Think. </em>
</p><p>Cause a crash in front of the van, blocking the road?</p><p>No. Scharch would just turn around, or drive on the shoulder.</p><p>Pull along side and <em>throw </em>himself onto the van? Break through a window?</p><p><em>Yeah right. </em>Scharch would ram him off, pinning Tora against a guardrail or another car. Or better yet, would just shoot him.</p><p>It was hard to think clearly as he sped down the highway, two cars behind the white van, <em>all</em> too aware of what Scharch was capable of. And Vincent, for that matter, because he had no doubt where Scharch was taking them.</p><p>Okay. Couldn’t shoot out the tires. Couldn’t run the van off the road or cause a collision. Scharch was a professional, so he wasn’t going to have to stop and get gas or take a piss—he’d have done all that before taking hostages.</p><p>He picked up his phone and took a deep breath. Called Quincey one last time, for good measure. Called Poppy, too. Of course, neither answered. His heart sped up, so frantic he thought he might actually pass out.</p><p>
  <em>You can do this. </em>
</p><p>Called <em>Scharch</em>.</p><p>It was the only play he could think to make. But it felt like jumping out of a plane without a parachute.</p><p>“Don’t hang up,” Tora said quickly when the call went through.</p><p>“What?” Scharch said, with a chuckle.</p><p>“Don’t hang up. Hear me out.” He tried, but failed, to keep desperation out of his voice. If Scharch wouldn't bargain, he didn't know what he was going to do. </p><p>Scharch didn’t say anything. Tora twisted his hand against the steering wheel and took a deep breath. His car swerved a little, causing another driver to lay on the horn. Tora drifted back into his lane.</p><p>“…I know you got ‘em,” Tora said slowly. “So I’ll be fuckin’ blunt. I don’t have a move.”</p><p>“How’s that feel?” Scharch drawled after a momentary pause. “Big Tiger without a plan.”</p><p>“I wanna make a deal,” Tora said.</p><p>Scharch laughed, softly.</p><p>“Yeah, alright. You don’t have anything I want.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Tora said. “What <em>do </em>you want?”</p><p>“Hm…” Scharch’s voice was a light drawl. “Well, <em>Vincent</em> said I could do whatever I wanted to the girl I have in the back, so…”</p><p>Tora hung up. He <em>yelled</em>, at nothing, at nobody, a loud noise that reverberated inside the closed walls of the car. Anger made him stupid, made him reckless. He swerved forward, passing the cars in front of him and slipping back in to tail Scharch. His blood <em>boiled</em>. He couldn’t feel himself. Numb fingers, numb legs. Just a sick, cold churning deep in his gut.</p><p>He took a deep breath and called Scharch back.</p><p>“Thought you’d like that,” Scharch said when he answered.</p><p>“If I get you someone else…” Tora said.</p><p>“Hm.” Scharch considered. “No.”</p><p>“You know I’ll kill you after,” Tora said, coldly. “Slowly.”</p><p>“You know something?” Scharch said. “It’s nice seeing you desperate, for once.”</p><p>“You F…” Tora started to cuss, then cut off the word.</p><p>“Shit. You’re really freaking out, huh?”</p><p>“I’m <em>begging</em> you,” Tora said, the words grating on him.</p><p>“Good,” said Scharch. “Beg some more.”</p><p>“I… can you at least… can you let me <em>talk</em> to her…”</p><p>The brake lights suddenly lit up on the van as Scharch hit the brakes. Tora reacted a second late and had to slam his own foot down, throwing his large body forward. He heard Scharch chuckle as the van sped back up.</p><p>“You really shouldn’t tailgate,” Scharch said.</p><p>Tora tried to take a deep breath, but he felt like he couldn’t get any air. His arms were shaking. Could a person smell fear? Could he smell his <em>own </em>fear? There was no space in his brain, but inane thoughts kept pressing in, observations slipping through a haze of dread and adrenaline.</p><p>“Think this through,” Tora said slowly, talking both to himself and to Scharch. “You take them to Vincent. You, you do… what it is you do. Then <em>I</em> kill<em> you</em>. Slowly. It’s <em>not</em> worth it. Have your fun with somebody else. Just pull over. I promise I won’t hurt you if you just let me take ‘em with me.”</p><p>“Oo-oh, scary,” Scharch said.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora said, the word almost a sob, “<em>Fuck</em>, Scharch, I’m telling you, I’d do <em>anything. </em>Must be <em>something </em>you want. You want me? I won’t fight back. Just let ‘em go. Let her go.”</p><p>In that moment of silence, the whole world could have stopped. A nuclear bomb could have gone off on the horizon, and Tora wouldn’t notice. All he saw was the back of the white van in front of him. All he heard was the empty ringing in his ears, and the sound of Scharch taking a breath.</p><p>“I’m not stupid,” Scharch said at last. “You’d fight back.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t. I <em>won’t.”</em></p><p>“You’ll shoot me, the moment…”</p><p>“I don’t have a gun,” Tora snapped. “I don’t have anything. I’m a desperate motherfucker, so cut a deal with me, and I’ll take it.”</p><p>“Alright. I get you, and she gets a quick death.”</p><p>“Not like that,” Tora said. “She goes <em>free. </em>Unharmed.”</p><p>“A little late for that one, tiger.”</p><p>Pain in his throat. Pain everywhere.</p><p>“You get me, and you let her go. You don’t do nothing else to her,” he grated.</p><p>“You want to know something funny?” Scharch asked. “I would’ve hung up by now if I didn’t like hearing you beg. Go on, Tora. You have anything else to offer me?”</p><p>“Jesus,” Tora breathed. He leaned back against the seat, all his muscles taut. “C’mon, Scharch. If Vince you can do what you want with her, that means you can let her go. <em>So let her go</em>. I’ll do anything. <em>Anything. </em>You want money? It’s yours. You wanna fuckin' flay me alive? You can do it.”</p><p>“Hm,” Scharch said.</p><p>“Isn’t there <em>any</em> part of you…” the words trailed off, as his throat stopped working. He sat mutely in the car, phone pressed to his ear, tailing the white van as waves of helplessness crashed over him. He'd been about to appeal to Scharch's humanity. He knew better. The freak <em>had </em>no humanity. \</p><p>He was going to tear Scharch limb from limb. He was going to torture that mofo to <em>death</em>.</p><p>“I’m getting off the highway,” Scharch said slowly. “Follow me. Stop when I stop. Don’t get out of the car. And Tora?”</p><p>Tora didn’t answer. His lower lip trembled ever-so-slightly, the movement barely visible to the naked eye.</p><p>“Pick up when I call you back,” Scharch purred. “Like the <em>good dog</em> you used to be.”</p><p>*</p><p>He followed Scharch off another exit, into a small town. Past a gas station, and a fast food restaurant. Down a side road. They sped along a field, and Tora gulped air in an attempt to keep himself clear headed.</p><p>Whatever happened, he could do this. Scharch was pulling over to talk to him. That meant he had <em>some </em>leverage, some control. Things were looking up. At least a little.</p><p>The van slowed down and rolled to a stop. Tora pulled up behind it, unclipped his seatbelt, and waited.</p><p>Four minutes passed. He <em>watched</em> them pass. He felt them pass through him.</p><p>The phone rang.</p><p>“Hi, tiger,” Scharch said.</p><p>“What now?” Tora mumbled.</p><p>“You still willing to trade places?”</p><p>“Yes,” he said, without a second thought.</p><p>“Back up. Ten feet or so.”</p><p>Tora did, putting distance between the two vehicles. The one of the back doors of the large white van swung open, and Tora caught a view of the inside.</p><p>Quincey had opened the door, his pale face grim and his blue eyes ringed by red, puffy skin. His wrists looked raw, like they’d been handcuffed or tied together.</p><p>“Get out of the car,” Scharch said into the phone. “If you try something, she dies.” The line went dead, and Tora lowered the phone from his ear.</p><p>Quincey hesitated, and turned his face in towards the van, like he was listening to something. The blonde reached over and opened the van’s other back door, revealing a full view of the interior.</p><p>Slowly, Tora opened his own door and stepped out of the car.</p><p>It was the first time that he’d seen Poppylan in person in weeks. With his hand on the top of the open door, Tora slowly straightened his long legs. His eyes bore deep into the back of the car, where Scharch held Poppy tight against him by the shoulders, a gun pressed against her head.</p><p>“Quincey, tie him up,” Scharch said.</p><p>Quincey stepped slowly out of the van, holding a roll of duct-tape in both trembling hands. For a fleeting second he made eye contact with Tora, then looked away and stumbled closer.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Quincey said, his voice low, when he drew near.</p><p>Tora didn’t say anything. He held his hands out in front of him.</p><p>“Behind you,” Scharch said.</p><p>Tora took a deep breath and put his hands behind him instead.</p><p>“Tora,” Quincey breathed, his voice barely audible and his lips not moving. “Tora, I’m just wrapping each wrist, separately. And a little piece to connect. You can break your wrists apart when you’re ready.”</p><p>He didn’t answer. He knew better than to answer. He stared at Poppy instead, drinking her in and knowing it could be the last time he saw her. </p><p>He wished his last view of her wasn't this. Wasn't her in pain, with tears streaking down her face and her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. He wished it was something sweet, something peaceful. Her, falling asleep next to him. Her, giggling and lifting a hand to cover her mouth. Something. Anything. Not this. Not his own personal living hell, burning into his brain like acid eating through everything good in the world. </p><p>He wanted to talk to her. To say goodbye. But he thought better of it. He’d already revealed too much emotion to Scharch—<em>far</em> too much. It was late to try and hold himself back, but Scharch thrived on pain. He lifted his chin higher. </p><p>He wouldn’t feed that bastard any more of it. He steeled his face to a flat exterior.</p><p>“Come back, Quincey,” Scharch said.</p><p>“No,” Tora interrupted.</p><p>“Pardon me?” Scharch dragged a hand down Poppy’s hair as Poppy trembled. “Do I have you remind you what the situation is?”</p><p>“…You aren’t taking both of ‘em and leaving me here tied up,” Tora said. “You let her go. Quince and I walk along that fence towards you—” he nodded towards the fence on the right of the road. “—and she walks back on the other side. You can shoot all of us if we get off course. We don’t get in the van ‘till she’s at the car.”</p><p>Scharch considered this.</p><p>“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. </p><p>“Poppy,” Tora said, his voice flat. “You forget about me, and all this shit, and you get the fuck outta here.”</p><p>She didn't nod. She didn't even respond. </p><p>He walked towards the fence, slowly, eyes on her. Scharch let her go, but kept the gun trailing after her. Poppy didn’t move, until Scharch pushed her. She stumbled forward and crawled out of the van, wide eyes on Tora, and inched towards the car as she’d been told to do.</p><p>"Keys are on the seat," he mumbled. "You <em>drive, </em>fast." Once again, she didn't answer.</p><p>“Stop,” Scharch commanded, when Tora and Quincey were five feet from the van. “Tora, stay. Quincey, come here.” Scharch switched his target from Poppy to Quincey, keeping the gun on the clan heir as the blonde climbed into the back of the van. Quincey knelt on the empty floor of the van’s back, as Scharch crouched on the balls of his feet. Tora watched as Scharch held the gun one-handed against Quincey’s head. He took the duct-tape with the other and peeled the tape off the roll with his teeth, then wound it around Quincey’s hands.</p><p>“Be a shame if my finger slipped,” Scharch commented light-heartedly. Quincey flinched, just slightly. “Now, how to do this?”</p><p>Scharch paused, cocking his head to one side as he thought. Tora resisted, barely, the urge to twist his neck and see what Poppy was doing.</p><p>“I think…” Scharch said, at last. “I think Quincey will come in the front, with me. You can ride in the back, Tora. And rest assured, I’ll shoot him if you try anything.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t,” Tora said. “Vincent would…”</p><p>“I didn’t say I’d <em>kill</em> him,” Scharch said, chuckling. “You can lose a lot of blood before you die. Half a gallon, give or take.” Scharch tilted his head to one side, then the other. “He’s pretty big. Maybe a little more than that. What do you think, Quincey?”</p><p>“No comment,” Quincey muttered, his voice unnaturally high.</p><p>“Alright. Up you go,” Scharch said. Quincey maneuvered to his feet, stumbling a little without the use of his hands.</p><p>Tora inhaled, slowly, and tried not to react. Was Quincey afraid, or faking? He knew for a fact the blonde wasn’t as clumsy as he was acting. Right? He might have hated fighting, but he'd trained in it nonetheless. And he worked out regularly. He had good balance, and good body control. It wasn’t hard for him to move from kneeling to half-standing without using his hands. But now the blond fell backward, wincing and fumbling to get to his feet and move to the front of the car like he’d been told.</p><p>Scharch watched coolly. But Quincey’s fake difficulty seemed to disarm him, slightly. As Quincey inched shakily towards the front of the van, Scharch turned away for a moment to smirk triumphantly at Tora.</p><p>Quincey’s back kick smashed into Scharch’s right hand, smacking the gun off-course. Quincey spun in the same move and brought his bound hands hard against the side of Scharch’s face.</p><p>Tora lunged forward, diving onto the car and ripping his bound wrists apart. <em>Fuck, Quince</em>, he had just enough time to think. He had to give it to Quincey for making a bold move, but Jesus. He couldn’t leave it to Tora? Quincey wasn’t a fighter, not really. A few years of training with Tora didn’t mean much when he flinched and made jokes at every move.</p><p>But for better or worse, Quincey had pulled it off—at least well enough that neither of them had a gun shot wound. There was a bang as Scharch fired, the bullet missing flesh and ripping into the side of the van. Poppy’s shriek tore into the air, her terror palpable at the gunfire.</p><p>And then Tora was on Scharch. He ripped the gun out of the demon's hands and smashed a fist into the mans’ face, breaking his nose. His elbow followed, his full body weight slamming down as his bone smashed Scharch’s head. His intention for a slow, painful punishment forgotten, Tora pummeled the man. </p><p>“You fucking dumbass,” he snarled at last, as Quincey grabbed Tora’s shoulders and pulled him back. “You…”</p><p>“Come on,” Quincey said, voice trembling. “Tora, come on. Let’s get out of here. <em>Now.</em>”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Evidence 101</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Tora, come on. Let’s get out of here.”</em>
</p><p>Tora raggedly inhaled, his eyes glued to Scharch’s bloody face. The asshole was still breathing, but he didn’t make a sound. Unconscious, probably. Bloody. Blood on Tora. Slowly, he stood up, his hands shaking with barely suppressed rage.</p><p>Faintly, in the corner of his consciousness, he was aware of Quincey moving. The blonde man had stumbled up to the front of the van and crawled into the driver’s seat, his wrists still bound together with duct tape. He fumbled for something in the pocket of the door.</p><p>Tora turned around, taking a slow, steadying breath as the world spun around him. He felt utterly unhinged. He’d lived a life of chaos, and spent every second looking over his shoulder, ready for disaster. So why did he feel so overwhelmed right now?</p><p>Trust. Because he’d trusted Poppy, trusted Quincey. And whatever was happening, they’d let it crash over him blind, with no warning.</p><p>His gaze settled on her body. Watched how she shook, with her eyes glazed over, standing next to the stolen car. She looked even smaller than normal, somehow, like she’d shrunk into herself.</p><p>Alright. He was pissed, and confused, but whatever they’d been hiding, they hadn’t known it was going to get this bad.</p><p>“Your car?” Quincey suggested.</p><p>“Can’t,” Tora growled. His gaze flicked back to the blonde. Quincey was holding his and Poppy’s phones in his bound hands: so that’s what he’d been getting from the front of the car. Trust the Princess to dive for his phone the moment he got his freedom.</p><p>“But…” Quincey started to say. Tora just shook his head.</p><p>He didn’t explain. Couldn’t quite bring himself to say<em> I dragged a rideshare driver outta the car, beat him up in front of a crowded airport, and stole his car. </em></p><p>A few seconds of silence dragged into a short lifetime. The wind rustled the full trees by the side of the road; a bit of tall grass licked around the roadside wooden fence. He had no clue where the fuck they were. Twenty minutes outside Tavan, but it looked like bumfuck-nowhere rural Narin.</p><p>He took a step towards Poppy, then paused and looked down at himself.</p><p>Well, fuck. That was a good deal of blood.  </p><p>He frowned and went to the open back of the van, looking for the gear he knew Scharch must have packed. It was annoying that his own supplies weren’t there. If he were <em>home</em> and got into a scrape, he’d have everything he needed, including clean, bloodless clothes, in his trunk. But since the van didn’t have a closed, separate trunk, clan policy prevented them from leaving such incriminating evidence as their work and clean-up bags in it overnight. So all they had now was the shit Scharch had decided to bring for whatever the hell this damned kidnap-mission was.</p><p>He found Scharch’s bag and opened it, keeping one eye on the asshole’s unmoving body.</p><p>More duct tape, gun, a towel, a first-aid kit. The kit had little alcohol wipes, but they sure as fuck weren’t enough to clean all of Scharch’s blood off him. Nothing else. Not even a knife to cut the duct tape from Quincey. And apparently Scharch didn’t think he’d need a change of clothes between <em>kidnaping the fucking Balthuman heir and his girlfriend</em> and dragging them back to Vincent.</p><p>Angrily, Tora picked up the bag and threw it against one of the van’s seats, fuming.</p><p>Supplies mattered less than the rest of the situation—the reality of <em>whatever</em> was happening—but it was easier to focus on, easier to confront. So he focused on it rather than thinking about Poppy shaking on the road behind him or Quincey, who’d wandered over the edge of the trees.</p><p>Right, fucking damn it. Hand it to the fucking Balthuman lawyers for convincing Vincent that none of them should keep anything crime-related in the main body of their cars when they weren’t working. <em>Evidence 101</em>, and here he was on some abandoned fucking country road with blood all over his arms and his shirt and probably his goddamned face. Fucking lawyers.</p><p>He rubbed the towel over his forearms, removing some of the blood but not getting himself totally clean of it. Maybe there was something useful in the other car, the one he stole. He threw the towel over his shoulder and stalked to the door of the car.</p><p>Poppy hovered there but inched out of his way as he approached. He met her eyes for a moment and opened his mouth to say something.</p><p>She looked blank. Totally fucking blank. Like a frightened deer. Well, fuck. Another thing to deal with.</p><p>So today was shit, but he’d already known that. Some reunion <em>they</em> were turning out to have. For weeks he’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her and hold her, and now he didn’t even know how to ask <em>are you okay</em>. All he could think about was that she’d almost died, and that she looked right now like her brain had disconnected entirely from her body. His hands itched to reach out to her, but his hands were covered in blood and he didn’t have the courage to risk being pushed away.</p><p>He wrenched opened the car door and reached for the trunk lever. <em>So what</em> if he was getting blood on the car; it was Scharch’s blood. The trunk clicked open and he went around to the back.</p><p>He thought he heard the sound of someone throwing up. Glanced up: Quincey was doubled over, hands still bound. Poppy slowly walked to stand beside him, and reached over to put a hand on his back. Tora narrowed his eyes at that.</p><p>He was too confused and pissed to feel grateful at the case of plastic water-bottles in the trunk of the car. He unscrewed one and dumped it on his arms, then used the towel to wipe off the blood. No change of clothes, unfortunately, so his shirt still looked a damn mess, but at least his hands weren’t smeared with red now. He wet a clean corner of the towel and dragged it over his jaw.</p><p>“We gotta go,” Tora said, his voice gravel. “We’ll take the van. Get in.”</p><p>“The van?” Poppy squeaked, turning with her hand still on Quincey’s back. “I…”</p><p>“Get in,” he repeated, voice flat. He chucked the empty bottle into the woods and grabbed another. He watched Poppy gulp and turn towards the van as he emptied another bottle, first over one arm, then the other. He threw that one in the woods, angrily, and opened a third.</p><p>Quincey looked at him and straightened slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.</p><p>“Are you littering?” Tora thought he heard Quincey mutter.</p><p>“You can shut the fuck right up,” Tora said. He chugged the third bottle dry, and threw <em>that</em> into the woods solely to spite Quincey. He grabbed the rest of the bottles in their carboard and plastic case, then stomped to the open back of the van. Tora threw in the bottles, and grabbed Scharch by the calves. He dragged the man towards him, and flung his unconscious body unceremoniously onto the ground. Scharch landed with a thud and loud groan of pain.</p><p>Tora ignored the sound and slammed the van’s doors shut. He walked around to open the driver’s door. Poppy was buckling herself into the back seat as Quincey got into the passenger one.</p><p>Tora moved the seat back, and then looked at Poppylan over his shoulder.</p><p>“Alright,” he said. “Enough. I’ve had fucking <em>enough. </em>One of you gotta tell me what…”</p><p>“Sirens,” Quincey snapped suddenly, his tone a warning.</p><p>Tora clenched his jaw. There were, indeed, faint sirens coming from the direction of the highway behind them. So he needed answers, but the first priority was to get away.</p><p>The keys still dangled in the van’s ignition. He turned them and jolted the van forward, plunging them down the quiet road.</p><p>Well, this wasn’t going to be easy. Bullet hole in the side of the van, unconscious beat-to-shit body on the ground behind them, blood in the back and on his shirt, Quincey’s wrists bound in duct tape.</p><p>And Poppy and Quincey to protect.</p><p>“Will the cops be looking for the van?” he said, voice flat.</p><p>“How should <em>I </em>know?” Quincey retorted indignantly.</p><p>“Jesus, I mean, he fuckin’ <em>nabbed</em> you, are people gonna be…”</p><p>“Maybe?” Quincey said.</p><p>“We gotta ditch the van,” Tora muttered. “Gotta get some distance from Scharch first. Hopefully finding that shit back there slows ‘em down a moment.” His whole body felt tense, his muscles tight with adrenaline. Consciously, with some difficulty, he loosened his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.</p><p>He’d been taught to use every tool available, to see a situation clearly. <em>Think</em>.</p><p>Brian. Brian was at the townhouse. He didn’t have a car, but shit, the kid could figure something out, right? Tora had trained him.</p><p>He called, still driving. Brian answered.</p><p>“You need to steal a car,” Tora said. “Quietly.”</p><p>“I need to—big bro, <em>what?</em>”</p><p>“You gotta pick us up,” Tora said. “Right now. Highway 54, just past exit 18, headed south. Can ya do it?” They were driving in the opposite direction, but surely they could work their way back to the main road. He didn’t want the pick up to happen on the same backroad as the ditched car.</p><p>“What’s…” Brian asked.</p><p>“<em>Can ya do it,” </em>Tora interrupted firmly.</p><p>“Uh… yeah.”</p><p>“Call when you’re ten minutes out. And bring me a shirt.” He hung up and took a breath. Prayed to fuck that Brian could pull it off without giving the cops yet <em>another</em> reason to come after them.</p><p>“Quince, you keep an eye out in case I miss something. Poppy…” his eyes moved up, to the rearview mirror. He took a moment to adjust it so it reflected her face. Her complexion was even paler than usual, her hands still trembling and clasped in her lap.</p><p>“Poppy,” he said, sharply.</p><p>Her gaze jerked up to look at him. His stomach clenched.</p><p>“Poppy,” he said, more gently this time. “You gotta fill me the fuck in, now. Don’t leave nothing out. I got you, you’re safe. But you gotta talk.”</p><p>But she didn’t. She only blinked at him.</p><p>It was Quincey, eyes locked on the side mirror, who spoke up after a long and painful pause.</p><p>“Poppy’s got friends who work for an airline,” Quincey started.</p><p>“Yeah? So the fuck what?” Tora said, eyebrows furrowing and gaze switching rapidly between the road in front of him and Poppy’s blank face.</p><p>He took a sharp turn onto a dirt side road, but didn’t slow down. The sirens had not grown louder; that was good. He thought he could still faintly hear them, so soft he wasn’t sure if he was imaging it or not.</p><p>“…so there’s a flight tonight from Tavan. They’re going to help get you on it, and…”</p><p>“The <em>fuck</em> are…” Tora interrupted.</p><p>“So you can…” Quincey kept talking.</p><p>“No, Christ, back the fuck up,” Tora said. “<em>Why</em>…”</p><p>“There’s no way out,” Poppy muttered from the back, at last speaking up.</p><p>Ominously, as if her words were a portent, at the next moment the dirt road revealed itself to be a driveway rather than a passage. Tora eased on the brakes as a rickety farmhouse came into view. He snorted under his breath. Dead fucking end. Well, looked like this was where they were ditching the van; he wasn’t about to risk driving it back and right into the cops.</p><p>“We’re cutting across the field on foot,” he muttered. “Get out.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Chapter 39</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>uh-oh sorry if this chapter is sloppy or abrupt, moving a little more quickly with the whole 'finals' thing but  way too impatient to wait another night to post! Soooo hopefully it's still enjoyable</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tora parked the van a ways back from the house, within view of it but not in the driveway in front of the building. Unlike the city, though, there was no blending in to their surroundings. The only thing around was the house, and fields, and dirt roads.</p><p>With his luck, Tora thought, some nosy fuck would peer out the window and see them. Luckily, his dark humor did not play out in real time. No face appeared in the house’s windows. No shout, gunshot, or opening door to herald trouble.</p><p>He stepped onto the dusty dirt ground and shut the door behind him, striding to the rear of the van as Poppy and Quincey slowly followed his lead. Tora swung open the back door and tugged Scharch’s bag over towards him. He checked the pistol’s safety and tucked it into his waistband.</p><p>Poppy emerged, carrying her monkey backpack and Quincey’s messenger bag. Tora had not known either were in the car. Scharch must have stowed their belongings in the back seat. He didn’t move to take Poppy’s bag from her. If it came down to a fight, he’d need his hands free.</p><p>Tora shut the door, and watched as Quincey fumbled over the messenger bag, his hands still bound by duct tape.</p><p>“Over ya head, and bring ‘em down,” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>It had been a long time since Tora had needed the information; he wasn’t one for being kidnapped. Without using his words, he demonstrated the motion to Quincey. He lifted his hands over his head, wrists together, and then rammed his arms down, spreading the elbows to skim past his ribs.</p><p>Quincey frowned, biting his lower lip. Tora took the bag from the clan heir and nodded. Quincey took a deep breath and tried the motion. His hands didn’t separate, but rammed into his stomach.  </p><p>“Harder,” Tora said. Quincey tried again. The duct tape stretched; on his third attempt, it split.</p><p>“Thank god,” Quincey breathed. He winced as he ripped the tape off his wrists, blonde arm-hairs coming away with the silver tape. Tora tossed the messenger bag back to him, and Quincey caught it against his body.</p><p>Tora nodded their direction across the field, towards the road. Unlike the carefully plowed farmland they’d crossed, this field was wild, a wavering landscape of tall grasses and wildflowers. He had no appreciation for the gold-green beauty of the land. Instead, Tora thought: <em>if we have to fall flat, it’s tall enough to cover us. </em>Still, he would have preferred trees or buildings to block gunfire. The field was a wide, open expanse.</p><p>He couldn’t see the road they’d come on. He had a vague idea of the right direction, and could only hope he’d see police coming before they saw the figures who now plodded into the tall grasses and towards the distant highway.  </p><p>Poppy was slowest, her short legs falling hard with every step. Tora slowed his stride to keep pace with her. A moment later, Quincey did the same.</p><p>The house was still visible behind them, but shrinking. Ahead of them, a wooden fence materialized. It would be easy to hop, but marked the boundary into a farmed field with knee-high crops in neat rows.</p><p>Tora glanced over his shoulder at Poppy. She wore her backpack, and gripped each strap in a tight-fisted hand. Her gaze stared resolutely straight ahead as she walked a couple paces behind him.</p><p>He stopped walking, watching her She didn’t seem to notice. <em>C’mon, </em>he told himself. <em>Stop bein’ a pussy.</em></p><p>He took a breath and extended a hand towards her. Her eyes widened and moved up, locking with his. For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to take his hand. He frowned and gritted his teeth together. But then she did.</p><p>It felt so small in his. Smaller than it ever had.</p><p><em>Don’t hurt her, </em>he’d said, and Scharch had answered <em>Too late.</em></p><p>
  <em>Too late.</em>
</p><p>His throat was tight, like it something heavy and dense blocked it. Like he was choking on nothing. On tears. He blinked rapidly and looked back in the direction they needed to walk, on the fence. He took a step; and she walked with him.</p><p>“Dad wanted us to get married,” Quincey said abruptly.</p><p><em>The fuck</em>? Tora said nothing. He kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring the fuzzy, loud, ringing building in his ears. <em>Married?</em></p><p>“We fought about it. I got him to agree we could just move in for now. But he wasn’t happy.”</p><p>Tora waited for the part where someone he knew was hurt, or dead. That was how most stories ended.</p><p>Quincey didn’t continue.</p><p>“And?” Tora said at last, his voice rough and choked. “What’d he…”</p><p>“He wasn’t going to change his mind,” Quincey said. “Neither of us could break up with each other, and we didn’t want to get married.”</p><p>“You—” Tora said. He stopped walking, his eyes boring into Quincey’s back as his hands tightened into fists.</p><p>“<em>Ah</em>,” Poppy hissed, as Tora clenched his fist hard around her hand. The noise made him glance at her; he let go of her hand. She flexed it carefully against the accidental pain of his grip.</p><p>His mind moved from one thought to the next, as it through molasses, unable to connect the dots in a way that didn’t make him furious.</p><p>“You’re saying <em>nothing new fuckin’ happened </em>and you go ahead and almost get her fucking…”</p><p>“If I knew this was how it would go, do you <em>really</em> think I would have…” Quincey started to say.</p><p>Tora threw his head back. For a second his gaze connected with the sky. He drew in a deep breath, glared down at Quincey, and lunged forward to slam his fist into Quincey’s shoulder.</p><p>“<em>Ouch,”</em> Quincey hissed in pain, stumbling backwards. “<em>Tora…”</em></p><p>“<em>Tora,” </em>Poppy said, her voice sharper than Quincey’s, snapping like a whip.</p><p>“You <em>goddamn</em>—” Tora snapped at Quincey.</p><p>“Well, what did you expect?” Quincey cried. His head wrenched up, his blue eyes glaring in a sort of anguished fury. “How long were we supposed to keep this up, Tora? You want me to marry her? It was the <em>only…”</em></p><p>“You should have fuckin’ <em>told…”</em></p><p>“Well, I <em>know </em>that <em>now, </em>but….”</p><p>“Will both of you just <em>stop?”</em> Poppy yelled abruptly. Her voice cracked across the field, her normally sweet tone iron-hard with repressed fury.</p><p>Tora didn’t think he’d ever heard that voice from her. His back snapped unconsciously straighter, and he turned to look at her.</p><p>She hugged her arms around her body and stared at him, chin firm even though her lips trembled.</p><p>“It was my decision,” Poppy told him. “If you’re going to be mad, be mad at me. Not at Quincey. All he’s done is help me, and help you.”</p><p>“Just like that?” Tora growled.</p><p>“Like that <em>what?” </em></p><p>“You’re on his fuckin’ side?” Tora said.</p><p>“I…” Poppy straightened. “What’s <em>that </em>supposed to mean?”</p><p>“<em>You </em>tell <em>me,</em>” he said, and regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.</p><p>Poppy gulped, and rubbed at her eye.</p><p>The sound of sirens brightened in the distance to their left, faint but audible once again. None of them appeared to notice. All three figures were distracted by the knot of complication that lay between them.</p><p>“Tora,” Poppy said, her voice suddenly weak. “<em>Please</em> stop yelling.” She bowed her head and tucked her hands more tightly under her folded arms.</p><p>“I’m not yelling,” he said, unable to look away from her. The words sounded angry, even to him. His muscles trembled, his whole body tense and furious and hurt. What was he <em>supposed</em> to do with all these feelings?</p><p>Years of training, and he’d never been prepared for this. Neither Quincey nor Poppy spoke.</p><p>“I’m <em>not,</em>” he insisted, his tone barely calmer. “Why the <em>fuck…” </em>All of a sudden his voice was emotional, not angry. He exhaled hard and drew a shaky breath. “Poppy,” he said, tone breaking. “Why the <em>fuck </em>weren’t you talking to me about… this?”</p><p>“We didn’t think it would be so, so complicated!” she cried. “We were just going to have you come to the airport. And talk, in person! It’s not like I thought…”</p><p>And then she was crying, full on crying. Her shoulders bent over the weight of the past weeks, her hands raising to cover her face.</p><p>Fuck, what kind of an asshole was he. In his peripheral vision, he saw Quincey bury his face in his hands and turn away. So this was the situation: Tora, lashing out; Quincey and Poppy, reeling in pain.</p><p>Tentatively, Tora stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around Poppy. This simple gesture was as close to an apology as he could muster. He didn’t say anything; he had no words. But she leaned into him instead of pulling away.</p><p>That was good, wasn’t it?</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said.</p><p>“Fuck, don’t do that,” he whispered fiercely. “Just… what were ya gonna <em>do</em>?”</p><p>“Leave the country,” she mumbled against him. Her fingers dug into his clothes, clawing closer to him. “Start over somewhere. Without Vincent. Live my own life.”</p><p>“<em>Leave Narin</em>?” he mumbled weakly.</p><p>Was she calling him to the airport to say goodbye? Was Quincey going with her? Was it easy for her to leave? Why hadn’t she <em>told</em> him?</p><p>Was he never going to see her again?</p><p>“Yeah,” she said. “It’s the, the only way. It’s either that or be in Quincey’s dad’s control, isn’t it?”</p><p>He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that there was some other way out. But he couldn’t think of one.</p><p>Not short of killing Vincent.</p><p>And Vincent was a fucking devil. He didn’t die easy.</p><p>“So that’s it?” he said, crushing her tightly against him and bending his head down to her. “I’m taking you to the airport, and you’re…” His lips brushed against her hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. <em>Fucking wimp, </em>his inner voice growled. <em>Don’t ya fucking…</em></p><p>She pushed at his chest. Reluctantly, frightened, he let go of her.</p><p>He didn’t want to. Fuck, what did letting go of her even mean? He’d never <em>been </em>with someone like he’d been with Poppy. Their whole relationship had existed in secret, in the shadows, and she was still the closest he’d ever gotten to intimacy.</p><p>She knelt and sniffled against her own tears. Poppy slipped off her backpack, dropping it on the ground in front of her. He stared down at the parted grasses as she unzipped her backpack, then pawed through it.</p><p> Her hands closed around something, and she held a stack of documents out at him, tears running down her face. Slowly, he reached down and took them.</p><p>“What?” he said.</p><p>She shook her head and turned away; ran her hand across her nose.</p><p>“Passport, ID, visa, and ticket,” Quincey said, his voice soft, from a dozen feet away. “The best forgery money can buy.”</p><p>“What?” Tora repeated, dumbfounded, staring at the items in his hands. His own face stared back at him, accompanied by a fake name he’d never read.</p><p>“There’s no life for you here,” Quincey said bitterly. “So choose, Tora. Poppy has to go. She can’t stay here, don’t you get it? We, I… dad… fucked over any chance she had at a future. And you’ve never had one. A chance. So she’s going. Are you going with her?”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So yes their bags DID come out of nowhere because I forgot to write them into a previous chapter uhhhhSURPRISE</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Chapter 40</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi all,</p><p>I'm posting 2 chapters back to back so the next one will be up shortly after this (just gotta read through it).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“There’s no life for you here,” Quincey said bitterly. “So choose, Tora. Poppy has to go. She can’t stay here, don’t you get it? We, I… dad… fucked over any chance she had at a future. And you’ve never had one. A chance. So she’s going. Are you going with her?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tora drew a shaky breath and narrowed his eyes, staring at the fake ID in his hands and trying to make sense of what was happening. He was used to keeping up with chaos, but this was a different level altogether.</p><p>It had been a normal day when he woke up. How had things changed so quickly?</p><p>“Won’t work,” he muttered.</p><p>“It’ll work,” Quincey said, his smooth voice calming.</p><p>“It… shit,” Tora said, eyes snapping to the left, where the road sat obscured beyond the tall grasses of the field. The wavering blare of sirens had finally come into his awareness. He dropped the documents and reached out to grab both Poppy and Quincey, dragging them down.</p><p>“Hey,” Quincey started to snap.</p><p>“<em>Down</em>,” Tora hissed. He flattened himself and exhaled slowly, then propped himself up slightly on his elbows to peer towards the road.</p><p>Nothing, nothing, nothing. The sound grew louder, disjointed: more than one car. Then flashing blue and red, in the distance, as their hunters drew near.</p><p>A loud buzz coming from his pocket. Tora jammed his hand down along his body and cut off his phone’s ring. <em>S’fine. Not that loud</em>, he told himself. He brought the phone up to look at the screen. <em>Brian. </em>Hopefully that meant he was ten minutes away, not that something had gone wrong.</p><p>And then the lights passed, continuing down the road. So they’d avoided being seen or heard, but for how long? They’d left a broken trail of crushed plants underfoot; if the cops found the van and had a few braincells to rub together—or worse, dogs to follow the scent—that was that.</p><p><em>Count to three, let ‘em get out of sight, and fuckin’ move,</em> Tora thought.</p><p>“In a moment we’re gonna run for it,” he said, voice just loud enough that both Poppy and Quincey could hear. His eyes swept between the two of them. Quincey looked resolute, jaw firm and eyes flat. Poppy was less certain; shaken and fearful. He wished he could wipe the worry from where it rested between her eyes. Wished he could rewind time, but there was nothing to do but move forwards.</p><p>“Just say when,” Quincey breathed.</p><p>Tora picked up the documents in one hand and reached for Poppy’s arm to give her a reassuring squeeze.</p><p>“Keep low,” he said, “if ya can. We’ve just gotta get to the highway and we’re gold.”</p><p>Poppy nodded, her eyes meeting his. He tried a smile; she didn’t return it.</p><p>“Okay,” he said, glancing over to Quincey with a nod. “Go.”</p><p>*</p><p>A battered silver car peeled off the highway and screeched to a stop on the exit’s shoulder. Tora pushed Poppy and Quincey forwards, herding them towards the back of the car. Tora slid into the front passenger seat and met Brian’s worried eyes.</p><p>“Bro, what the fuck—”</p><p>“Airport,” Tora said. “You bring that shirt?”</p><p>Brian nodded mutely and jabbed a finger towards the floor of the passenger seat, where a black shirt lay crumpled on the dirty ground. Tora snorted and grabbed it. He tore off the bloody shirt and wrestled the ‘clean’ one over his head. He pulled Scharch’s gun of out of his waistband, keeping it low and out of sight.</p><p>“Fuck,” he heard Brian whisper, the kid’s eyes flickering down at Tora’s hands before grimly focusing back at the road.</p><p>“So are you going?” Quincey asked. The blonde man peered back over his shoulder, squinting through the car’s window in paranoia.</p><p>Tora gritted his teeth and tried to find an answer.</p><p>He wasn’t one for running away, and it seemed like an impossibly stupid plan. The cops had to be looking for him. He’d stolen a car after using a damn phone app to call it; they knew who he was. He had a record. Would forgery <em>really</em> be enough to get him through it?</p><p>But Poppy was leaving. And he was <em>glad</em> she was leaving. So if he went with her, was he being a coward, or was he helping to keep her safe?</p><p>He imagined her, all alone, starting a new life. Leaving behind everything she'd known, because of <em>him, </em>because of what being with <em>him</em> had done to her. And <em>him</em> not even being there to walk her through it. She deserved better. If she wanted him to come, he wouldn't let her go alone.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said a long moment later, as Brian cut in front of another driver to follow a sign towards the airport. “Guess I am.”</p><p>“This is it, then,” Quincey said softly. The heir’s hands came forwards to grip Tora’s shoulders from behind. Tora flinched and glared over his shoulder.</p><p>“Aren't ya coming?” Tora grumbled.</p><p>“I don’t think dad would stop chasing you if I did, honey,” Quincey said with a half-smile. “But I’ll visit you. You aren’t getting rid of me <em>that</em> easy.”</p><p>“You can’t stay,” Tora growled. “He’ll fuckin’ kill you.”</p><p>“Don’t be silly. He wouldn’t hurt me.” Thoughtlessly, Quincey’s hand drifted up to rub along the scar that crested his eyebrow. “Well, much, anyways. I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“Can someone tell me what the hell is happening?” Brian snapped.</p><p>Despite himself, a short laugh escaped Tora. He was too familiar with that feeling.</p><p>*</p><p>“You’ll call me when you land?” Quincey whispered in Tora’s ear. Quincey’s arms were wrapped tight around Tora. Tora stood glowering with his own hands slack, Quincey’s leather messenger bag over one shoulder.</p><p>He wanted to tell Quincey to stop fucking hugging him. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to snap at Quincey, not just then. A painful feeling twisted uncomfortably in his heart. It was as though everything was coming to an end, fast and unexpected, a picture forming and changing so rapidly in front of him he couldn’t keep track of it.</p><p>So he lifted his own arms and hugged his adopted brother tight.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tora muttered. “Don’t fuckin’ die without me.”</p><p>“Honey, I’ll try my best,” Quincey muttered. The blonde man let go first, unexpectedly, and stepped back. The heir rapidly blinked at tears, and Tora looked away uncomfortably as Quincey threw up his hands, let out a strained laugh, and rubbed at his eyes.</p><p>“Thank you for everything,” Tora heard Poppy say to Quincey.</p><p>“Take care of him, okay? He’s fragile,” Quincey said back.</p><p>“Oh, fuck right off,” Tora muttered. He averted his gaze as the two of them hugged.</p><p>“You have the directions and the lock-box code?” Quincey said.</p><p>“All of it,” Poppy promised. “We’ll just be a phone call away.”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Quincey said. “You two go on ahead. We’ll watch until you’re through security.”</p><p><em>What, in case I get arrested? </em>Tora thought to himself. But he let Poppy grab his hand, and walked with her into the dense, crowded line.</p><p>A sea of people, but she shone so bright in his mind they might as well have been alone. He rubbed his thumb along her hand and looked down at her, heart beating uncomfortably.</p><p>“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she whispered.</p><p>“Poppy,” he whispered back. “I’m <em>so fuckin’ sorry</em> about—”</p><p>“Save it,” she said, lifting a finger and placing it against his lips. “Time for that later, okay? Just… thank you. For coming with me. I <em>know </em>it’s a lot.”</p><p>“I need ya to go through first,” he said, lifting up to tug her hand away from his lips and hold it tight against his heart instead.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The fuckin’ line,” he said. “And I need ya to promise me. If I get stopped or some shit, you go on without me.”</p><p>“Tora—”</p><p>“<em>Promise me</em>,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Only way I go through with this, Poppy. If they arrest me or somethin’, you pretend you don’t know me and you keep going.”</p><p>“But…”</p><p>“Hey.” He squeezed her hand, and bent to kiss her forehead. “Not saying it’s gonna happen. But I need to know you’ll be safe.”</p><p>“Fine,” she said. “If that’s what you want to hear, Tora, fine.”</p><p>It wasn’t quite a promise, but he figured it was the best he was going to get. The line shuffled forward, and he separated from her, letting go of her hand.</p><p>*</p><p>The ID and ticket got him through the first round of security. Next they were sorted into smaller lines, and an angry uniformed woman yelled at him to take off his shoes and put them on the fucking conveyor belt with his bag. He blinked at her and complied, feeling like a cow on its way to slaughter, confused and stressed with death hanging heavy in the air.</p><p>He could see Poppy ahead of him, in the line to his left. They’d been separated by chance and he’d let it happen, knowing more space between them was probably smart, just in case. But as his heart thumped heavy and his palms grew hot and sweaty… nothing happened. The line shuffled forwards. He stopped when the armed security guard held up a hand, and moved forward as he was waved forwards, and tried to hold still as a metal detecting wand waved over his body.</p><p>And then he shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his pack, and breathed a sigh of relief as Poppy trotted to him and grabbed his hand.</p><p><em>Too easy</em>, the adrenaline in his body shouted. <em>Where’s the gunfire, the blood, the screaming? Too easy.</em></p><p>Too damned normal, and at the same time alien. The inside of the airport looked almost like a shopping mall. She dragged him past restaurants and stores, pausing to glance at a giant black board where green text flashed flight information. He couldn’t make sense of any of the words. His brain wouldn’t let him focus on anything long enough to make sense of it. It looked like a different language altogether.</p><p>“We have half an hour,” she informed him. “It’s good Brian made it when he did.”</p><p>Under-fucking-statement of the year.</p><p>They stopped at a gate. The rows of seats, silver metal and black fabric, were full of expectant passengers. Poppy nodded her head towards an empty spot of wall, and Tora followed her there, his heart beating with too much anxiety to think a single straight thought, except that they were in a crowd and he felt entirely exposed. He opened the messenger bag hanging at his side and pawed through it, then cursed under his breath and let the flap fall. He dug his short nails into his palm.</p><p>He’d agreed to run, decided to run. He hadn’t expected to be here, standing in place as crowds milled around them and blurry, staticky voices mumbled numbers and names over a loudspeaker. He felt like nothing so much as a fly in honey, trying to swim but getting nowhere.</p><p>“What do you need?” Poppy asked, her voice cutting into his consciousness like a breath of air.</p><p>“Something,” he said, “Just, fucking… tattoos, and….”</p><p>“A hoodie?” she suggested.</p><p>He frowned and crossed his arms, eyes panning across the crowd and back again, and wished he could make himself smaller and unassuming.</p><p>“They sell them,” she offered. “There was a souvenir shop with clothes. C’mon, we have time.”</p><p>And followed her like a lost sheep, and found himself wearing an XXL powder-blue hoodie that said PORT TAVAN in a cartoon font.</p><p>“Definitely your style,” she said with a giggle, as he drew the hood over his hair and pulled the strings tight.</p><p>*</p><p>When they boarded, the woman checking tickets gave Poppy a half-hug and Tora a cold nod. He nodded back and followed Poppy down a spaceship-hallway, then onto the body of a large plane. They only walked a few paces before Poppy pointed him to a seat.</p><p>“How long’s this gonna last?” he asked as he shuffled towards the window-seat at her urging.</p><p>“Overnight,” she said. “It’s a twelve-hour flight.”</p><p>“You gotta be kidding me,” he said. He folded his large body into the seat, holding the bag on his lap.</p><p>“I know, right?” she said. “Thank Quincey. I don’t even want to <em>tell</em> you how much it cost. But he insisted we weren’t flying economy.”</p><p><em>Thank</em>? He gave her a quizzical look.</p><p>“…’kay,” he muttered. “What’s this, then?”</p><p>More passengers streamed onto the plane, walking past them.</p><p>“It’s… Tora, have you ever flown before?”</p><p>He shook his head no.</p><p>*</p><p>An hour into the flight the sun began to set, turning the world crimson below the wings of the plane. He held Poppy against him and stared out the window.</p><p>Not three minutes later the plane rumbled and dropped, then leveled, then shook.</p><p>His whole body tensed, and he lurched forwards and up, as if there was somewhere to run to.</p><p>“Tora?” Poppy asked, as he stumbled to his feet with his head bowed to stand in the small space. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“We’re going down,” he said, his voice frantic. He wondered how many parachutes they kept on board, and where they were, and how many people he’d have to fight off to make sure they each got one, and whether Poppy knew how to use a parachute, because he sure as hell didn’t.</p><p>“Calm down, Tiger, it’s just turbulence,” Poppy said. “You don’t need to be afraid.”</p><p>“I’m <em>not,” </em>he insisted. Just then the plane shook again and he stumbled, grabbing onto the wall next to him as his heart dropped all the way out of his body. “Fuck, <em>no way</em> this is normal.”</p><p>“It’s not even <em>bad</em> turbulence,” Danae muttered, passing by them with a smirk at Poppy.</p><p>“Thought I’d die from a bullet,” he grumbled, as he sat back down and gripped the arm rests so tight his knuckles turned white and the plastic ridges of the rests cut into his fingers. “Not fuckin, fuckin’ <em>engine failure</em>.”</p><p>*</p><p>They landed at 5 pm local time, 7 am Narin time. He didn’t think he’d slept more than fifteen minutes at a go, and his whole body felt like one giant ache. He mirrored Poppy and muttered a <em>thanks</em> to everyone they passed, and felt disoriented relief as they emerged from the plane into a new airport, where everything was in a foreign language. He followed her to the luggage carousel, not knowing where they were going or where they were. He’d never felt so out of his element in his life. Not since he was a child. But he kept close to Poppy and kept an exhausted eye on the crowds, still ready to protect her if anything happened.</p><p>But it didn’t. They waited by a curving conveyor belt and watched as suitcase after suitcase made its way around the bend.</p><p>“Ya got bags?” he asked tiredly, and Popppy nodded.</p><p>“We checked them through in Narin City. Quincey packed for you.”</p><p>He nodded, eyes bleary, and held her against him. A few minutes passed; he couldn’t have said how long. He yawned, jaw cracking, and hoped to hell he could find a place to smoke soon. That and sleep were all he could think about.</p><p>And then Poppy pointed out a pair of purple roller bags, and then a black duffel bag, and then a scuffed cream roller bag, and Tora hauled each one off the belt until they had a small pile of heavy luggage next to them. He wondered what Quincey had packed for him and how the two of them had gotten it all to the airport to begin with, and whether they’d had help, and realized he had a million questions he needed answered and no energy to ask them.</p><p>So he threw the duffel bag over his shoulder and took the larger roller, and followed her once again as she pointed them towards the exit, where <em>customs</em> was written in a dozen languages. That was another line, and more questions; <em>here on vacation with my girlfriend</em>, he muttered a half dozen times.</p><p>And then they were done with security.</p><p>“I’m so tired,” Poppy murmured. “Let’s go find a cab, and we’ll head to the hotel.”</p><p>“There’s a hotel?” Tora said, shifting the weight of the duffel bag on his shoulder. If he had to guess it was full of clothes; nothing else would be so light.</p><p>“Of course there’s a hotel,” she said. “Just for the night, and then we have to rent a car. There’s a whole…” she paused to yawn and blinked sleep from her eyes. “A whole itinerary. Quincey planned it.”</p><p>“Course he did,” Tora said.</p><p>He remembered in a hazy fog he was supposed to call Quincey. And, simultaneously, that he owed his brother more than he could possibly repay.</p><p><em>I’ll call from the cab, </em>he thought tiredly. <em>Too fuckin’ beat to do more than one thing at a time.</em></p><p>So he just walked after Poppy, stumbling towards the airport’s giant glass doors. They slid cleanly aside as she approached. Two steps behind, he followed her into the afternoon light of a foreign county. The horns of cars blared loud in his ears, and the breeze settled around him, warm, humid, and heavy. He took in the concrete and pollution, the chaos of the airport parking lot, and a dozen palm-trees growing crookedly from the road’s median—a bit of green out of place in the industrial landscape.</p><p>He smiled, and felt a bit of worry loosen, like a shackle falling off him. This wasn’t Narin. He was thousands of miles from home, from Vincent, from all of it.</p><p>“Tora,” Poppy said, and he turned to see his ray of sunshine beckon towards him. She stood beside a cab. The driver popped the trunk and Poppy started to lift one of the heavy rolling bags.</p><p>“Coming,” he said. “Fuckin’ put that down, sweetheart. I got it.”</p>
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<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, all!</p><p>1. In case anybody just clicks on the most recent chapter: this is 2/2 posted back to back, so if you're like ???!?!?!? you might have skipped one!</p><p>2. WOW I'm finally slapping an ending down. Thank you to everybody who read along with this chaos monster. My 3 -chapter smut turned into 7, then 14, then ??? 41 chapters without me ever really knowing where I was headed. In my delirious school-haze I'd write in plot twists and then pop back a week later and be like, WHAT DID I DO? OH GEEZE, and it just KEPT GOING, and I am honestly so flattered but also shocked and confused if you've made it this far! Anyways, I considered dragging it out for even longer, but it's lived long enough. I am finally killing it. I mean calling it. What? I guess both are accurate. Thank you all so much and catch you on the flip side with some actually-plotted-out stories, if I haven't exhausted you too much with this one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>EPILOGUE</p><p>The green paint on the wooden porch swing was peeling, again, in the humidity. Every year he repainted it. Every year the hot sea breeze stripped it away.</p><p>Tora picked at a corner of it and nodded into the phone, not that Quincey could <em>hear</em> that. He pushed back with his legs, sending the swing rocking.</p><p>“Yeah, I gotcha fuckin’ flight times,” Tora interrupted at last. “Princess, your itinerary ain’t fuckin’ changed. How many times you wanna go over it?”</p><p>“Well, when <em>Gyu </em>visited last year he said you were two hours late to pick him up, honey, so…”</p><p>“Christ, that fuckin’ rat. I told him, it was traffic. It's a long drive."</p><p>“Uh-huh. And not you and Poppy getting distracted, right?”</p><p>Tora chuckled and let his head loll back.</p><p>“He gave me a hard enough fuckin’ time. You, too?”</p><p>“Alright, alright,” Quincey relented. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you. When you were in Tavan, did you hide something in the walls?”</p><p>“Did I what?”</p><p>“Hide something in the walls?”</p><p>Tora frowned and blinked up at the porch’s lazily-spinning ceiling fan. Five years later, and that uncomfortable part of his life was nothing more than a hazy memory that he tried to avoid.</p><p>“Maybe,” he said. “Don’t remember. Sounds like me. Why?”</p><p>“Well, I told you we’re flipping the townhouses,” Quincey said. “You wouldn’t <em>recognize</em> the neighborhood, it’s changed so much. But I had an electrician in there and he found some stuff in a wall socket. I’m… like, ninety-five percent sure it’s yours.”</p><p>“What kinda stuff?”</p><p>“I had him ship it to me. I’ll bring it with me.”</p><p>“…’kay,” Tora said, racking his brain and trying to remember what he would have hidden in a wall socket.</p><p>“Is the humidity there as bad as Poppy says?”</p><p>“You get used to it.”</p><p>“I’m not worried about getting <em>used to it</em>, I’m worried about what hair products to bring.”</p><p>“Fuck off, Princess. Ya not going on a singles cruise.”</p><p>“Well, excuse <em>me</em> for giving a damn,” Quincey drawled. “Just because <em>you</em> pull off the effortless look.”</p><p>The conversation meandered a few minutes later, then ended; Quincey had a morning appointment to run to. It was evening for Tora, and strange to think anybody was just getting started with their day. Somehow it brought him back to his years in the clan, when evening might as well have been morning, for all the nights he spent prowling the city. He stared moodily down the hill that their concrete house perched on, through the thick green foliage and towards the sliver of visible ocean, darkening gray as evening fell.</p><p>How differently might life have gone, if he’d told Lane everything all those years ago, instead of waiting to drop the hammer on Vincent until he and Poppy were overseas? He’d still be living in Narin. He liked to think he’d still be with Poppy. No telling how many of his dead friends would still be alive, and how many of his live friends would have died. But it was all useless, his confused muddling through what-ifs and back-whens. The past was the past. All he could do was be grateful where he’d landed.</p><p>“Fudge,” a small voice said from somewhere above him.</p><p>He craned his head back and stared towards the rooftop of the one-story house, where he knew Poppy was working on a painting, out of sight. With a smile, Tora stood and put his phone in his pocket. Ignoring the stairs at the back of the house, he scaled the wall quickly, using the windowsill as foot-hold.</p><p>Poppy yelped as he emerged over the top.</p><p>“Shirt, you startled me,” she muttered. Paint streaked her hands and wrists; a dab of bright orange on her forehead where she’d swept back her long hair. She huffed and turned her gaze from Tora to the canvas.</p><p>“Whatcha workin’ on, sweetheart?”</p><p>“Another landscape,” she murmured, as he closed the distance between them and planted a kiss on the top of her head.</p><p>*</p><p>Quincey doubled forward in laughter as Poppy spilled sideways out of her chair, her shoulders shaking hard. She was so breathless from giggling that no sound came out of her mouth. Tora chuckled and shook his head.</p><p>“And then… then…” Quincey wheezed. “He asked if I had <em>nail clippers,” </em></p><p>“No-ooo,” Poppy said, her voice strained.</p><p>Tora stood from the table and gathered their plates. The sound of laughter warbled behind him as he set the dishes in the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out another bottle of chilled wine and a pitcher of juice.</p><p>He walked back towards the table, passing the first painting Poppy had made for him; it had been with them since they moved, carefully packed at the bottom of one of the suitcases Quincey had prepared.</p><p>He put down the drinks and settled at the edge of the table again.</p><p>“Oh, I missed this,” Quincey said, grinning and shaking his head.</p><p>“You could always move here,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Never in a million years. <em>You</em> could move home, booboo. Both of you.”</p><p>Poppy and Tora exchanged a knowing look. She smiled; he shrugged.</p><p>“I think we’re happy here,” Poppy said.</p><p>“Okay, if you have to <em>think</em> about it, you’re not…”</p><p>“We <em>are</em> happy here,” Tora interrupted. “It’s peaceful. Quiet. Nobody shriekin’ at me or callin’ me at 2 am to get a ride home from the club.”</p><p>“You are <em>truly </em>lucky I love you,” Quincey drawled. “Years of verbal abuse, and yet. Here I am. Still gracing you with my presence.” He gestured at nothing with an elaborate sigh, then clapped his hand over his mouth. “Oh! I almost forgot!”</p><p>“Don’t tell me you brought <em>more</em> gifts,” Poppy hollered, as she reached for the wine bottle Tora had set down. “It’s <em>too </em>much.” She refilled Quincey’s glass, then her own. Tora rolled his neck with a wince, stretching out some old phantom pain and only half-listening.</p><p>It was <em>nice</em> to half-listen. To relax, almost sleepily. He didn’t feel watched, or hunted. Not most nights, anyways.</p><p>He’d thought he’d never get over it. That he could never run far enough to escape. And the first few years, that had been true. Distance had helped, but not erased, the shadows he’d been raised in.</p><p>But time, with its obliterating magic, had softened the edges of the past. Now he scarcely felt like the same man. It helped that Ares street was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>“Not gifts,” Quincey yelled from the hallway. “Well, sort of, but not gifts I bought.”</p><p>He reemerged, and offered a small cardboard box to Tora.</p><p>“S’this?” Tora asked, opening the box and blinking down into it.</p><p>“Just some memories,” Quincey said. “From the inside of the wall. Recognize anything?”</p><p>A strawberry hair tie, a stolen hamster keychain, and a half-written letter to Poppy stared back at him from the past.</p><p>Poppy leaned over, resting a hand on his shoulder and peering down.</p><p>“My hairtie!” she said. “But what’s that?”</p><p>“Stupid fuckin’ thing,” he said, wonderingly. He reached in and pulled it out. “Stole it for ya. Never sent it. Forgot about it.”</p><p>“You <em>stole </em>it?” she said. “Tora…”</p><p>“Shit, Bobby, it was years ago.”</p><p>“Well, it’s cute,” she said with a smile.</p><p>“Keep it.”</p><p>“What’s the letter?” she asked.</p><p>“Ah, probably dumb,” he said. He picked it up and put it in his pocket.</p><p>“It’s <em>not</em> dumb,” Quincey said. “It’s actually <em>really</em> sweet. And I think he tried really hard on it.”</p><p>“Assface,” Tora said. “You <em>read </em>it? The fuck?”</p><p>“No-oo, Tora,” Quincey said. “I discovered a secret love letter hidden in a wall and I didn’t even peak at it. What do you think? Of <em>course </em>I read it.”</p><p>“Dick,” Tora muttered.</p><p>“Can I see it?” Poppy said.</p><p>“Fuck no.”</p><p>“C’mon, that’s not fair. Quincey got to read it.” She rocked back away from him, pleading him with those big eyes.</p><p>“He wasn’t s’posed ta…” Tora grumbled.</p><p>Quincey leaned across the table and whispered something in her ear. Tora’s eyes narrowed as Poppy giggled.</p><p>“Okay, fine,” she told Tora.</p><p>“What’d he say?”</p><p>“Nothing. He told me what it said. You can keep it.”</p><p>“Christ, you two are dangerous, ya know that?”</p><p>Poppy leaned forwards again, grabbed him by the sides of his face, and pressed her lips tight against his. He blinked and relented, bringing his hands up to hold her but a little shocked she’d been so forward in front of someone.</p><p>That was, until he felt Quincey’s nimble fingers tug the letter out of his pocket.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tora said, wrenching back and hitting out towards Quincey.</p><p>“<em>Oooh,</em> getting slow,” Quincey said, dancing away. “Poppy, here, this is yours.”</p><p>She stood and took it, then looked at Tora. The triumphant look of glee on her face relented. With a sigh, she held it back towards him.</p><p>“What?” he said.</p><p>“I shouldn’t pry,” she said. “If you don’t want me to read it…”</p><p>Well, what was he keeping secrets from her for?</p><p>“Ah, fuck,” he muttered. “Whatever. Fuck if I care. It's old anyways.” He shook his head and stood, determined to smoke a cigarette. Blushing slightly, he grabbed a crumpled pack from the counter and headed for the door.</p><p>“Tora, I didn’t mean to upset you…” Poppy said.</p><p>“You didn’t,” he said. He ruffled her hair. “Wrote it for you, anyways. And ya right. If fuckin’ Quincey got to read it, you might as well.”</p><p>“The disrespect I endure,” Quincey said, his voice theatrically melancholy. He shook his head and held his wineglass up over his head.</p><p>Tora shook his head and left for the patio.</p><p>Three minutes later, Poppy joined him. She closed the door behind her. Tora stubbed out the cigarette and watched her carefully.</p><p>“You <em>love</em> me,” she said, putting a hand gently on his forearm.</p><p>“Shit, sweetheart, I only tell ya every day,” he muttered, pulling her against him.</p><p>“Now, sure. But it took you a while.”</p><p>“Everything was different then.” He hadn't been as good at feelings.</p><p>“I know,” she said. “And I always knew you cared. But I didn't know you... <em>lo</em><em>ved</em> loved me. Like <em>that</em>. That <em>much.</em> Back then.”</p><p>“Mmm,” he said. He ran a hand down her back, and looked down at her. “Sure I did,” Tora told her. “Always have an’ I always will. And if you ever <em>do</em> wanna go back to Narin…”</p><p>“Nah,” she demurred. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”</p><p>THE END</p><p>(AT FUCKING LAST)</p>
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